
Class _t:V3.£b5: 
Book .HU SJls 
GopyiightN^ \^o^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



"A TRUE PICTURE IS TRUE ART' 




But a banjo cvarn't stan' 'spons'bul fur de debilw//// hit brings, 
"When a niggah wid a happy heart is settin' 'hind de strings 



De Namin'ob de Twins 

AND OTHER SKETCHES 
FROM THE COTTON LAND 



BY 

MARY FAIRFAX CHILDS 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

EDWARD H. POTTHAST 



NEW YORK 

B. W. DODGE & COMPANY 

1908 






'jirbKAKY of 0*»H-:i";5ii| 

WOCOPIM rtbiA, K I 

iy:AY 1 "iyOdj 



CoPYtlGHT, 190!, IT 

B. W. DODGE tt COMPANY 



Co t!)e BniteJ ^attfj^ters of t^ ConfcUcratp, 

SCATTERED FAR AND WIDE THROUGHOUT OUR GOODLY LAND, 

THESE SIMPLE TALES OF THEIR OWN SIMPLE 

FOLK ARE DEDICATED. 



FOREWORD 

Dialect stories from gifted pens have already left lit- 
tle untold of the old-time negro, a dusky people who were 
once — pardon the paradox — as sunshine in the Southern 
homes over which they lovingly and loyally presided. 

Those rare writers of prose — Ruth MacEnery Stuart, 
Thomas Nelson Page, James Lane Allen and others — 
have written enough to show the younger generations of 
the love that existed between families and their household 
servants, a love which even the long, lonely separations 
after the war could not eliminate. 

By incidents of touching nature we are constantly re- 
minded that many of them still feel the loss of those old 
plantation days, when they rejoiced in the freedom of 
"cabin, 'taters, an' possum" ; where they took no thought 
of the morrow, replete with the assurance that in sick- 
ness, as in health, "ole Marstah an' ole Miss" would com- 
fort and support them. 

And these incidents have so appealed to the writer that,, 
here in her Northern home, she has not been able to re- 
sist the pleasure of recording them, thus living again — 
as it were — odd moments with that simple and loving folk, 
whose real existence is a cherished remembrance of her 
childhood in Kentucky. 

(Mrs.) Mary Fairfax Childs. 

Brooklyn, N. Y. 

7 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

De Namin' OB DE Twins 15 

Roos' High, Chicken 21 

Marse Linkum's Mistek 25 

De Baptizin' 0' Black Betty 31 

"Down Souf" 35 

Aunt Glory's Marriage Certificate 39 

Mah Honey 47 

De Ole Banjo— a Christmas Memory 51 

De Barn Dance 57 

The "Old Masters" 61 

Little Abe's Soliloquy 67 

Parson Pete's Sermon 71 

Mandy and "Ole Miss"; or, After Many Days. . 79 

When Ebenin' Comes 85 

Ole Joe an' de Yaller Mule; or, "Faithful 

Unto Death" 89 

"Name This Child" 97 

Ole 'Lijah's Weddin' — a Plantation Episode loi 

Aunt 'Liza's Visit North 107 

De "Yankee" Buckeye 1 17 

De Fambly Tree 123 

De Las' "Will an' TESTimint" 131 

Mammy Sukey's Buryin* i37 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PACM 

But a Banjo Cyarn't Stan' 'Spons'bul fur de 

DEmLmint Hit Brings, 
When a Niggah wid a Happy Heart Is Settin' 

'Hind de Strings Frontispiece 

*'What I Gwine Name Mah Ceely's Twins? I 
DuNNO Honey, Yit" 15 

"I 's Hee-rd 0' Gin'l Lee an* Gin'l Grant — but I 
ain' Neber Heerd 0' NO 'gin'l housewuk'".. 35 

"Oh, sah, I 's Jes Drapt in ter See ef my Ole 
Mastah's Heah" 61 

In Fond Embrace Two Women, from the Alms 

House, Walked Away, 
The One was White, the One was Black, and 

Both Were Old and Gray 89 

"Lawd! Marstah, I Done Change mah Mind — 
I Gwine Tek Fiddlin' Jim" loi 

"Dis Miz'ry — IN — DE — Back 's Nigh Gone, so Put 

Dat Pen Away, 
An' We'll Mek Out Dis TESTintint Agin Some 
Uddah Day " 131 

II 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 



13 



The very fact that negroes made no attempt toward be- 
ing humorous rendered them, as a race, irresistibly so. 

The names decided on by "Granny" for her Ceely's 
twins are borne by two little darkies in Albemarle County, 
Virginia. 



14 




What I gwine name Mah Ceely's twins? I dunno honey, yit " 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

What I gwine name mah Ceely's twins ? 
I dunno, honey, yit, 
But I is jes er-waitin' fer de fines' I kin git. 
De names is putty nigh run out. 
So many niggahs heah, 
I 'clar* dey 's t'ick as cotton-bolls in pickin'-timc o' yeaft. 

But 't ain' no use to 'pose to me 
Ole secondary names, 
Lak 'Lizabeth an' Josephine, or Caesah, Torm, an' James, 
'Ca'se dese heah twinses ob mah gal's 
Is sech a diflf'ent kind, 
Dey 's 'titled to de grandes' names dat ary one kin find. 

Fer sho dese little shiny brata 
Is got de fus'-cut look, 
So mammy wants fine city names, lak you gits out a book ; 
I ax Marse Rob, an' he done say 
Some 'rageous stuff lak dis: 
He 'd call de bruddab Bt'lzebub, de sistah Q^ntsis; 

Or Alphy an' Omegy — de 
Beginnin' an' de en' — 
But den, ob co'se no man kin tell, what nio* de Lawd *U 
sen'; 

IS 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

Fer de pappy ob dese orphums — 
You heah me? — I '11 be boun', 
While day 's er-crawlin' on de flo', he '11 be cr-lookin' 
roun' ; 

'Ca'se I done seen dem Judas teahs *•' 

He drap at Ceely's grabe, 
A-peepin' 'hind his han'kercher, at ole Tim's yaller Gabe ; 
A-mekin* out to moan an' groan, 
Lak he was gwine 'o bus' — 
Lawd ! honey, dem dat howls de mos', gits ober it de fus'. 

Annynias an' Saphiry, 

Sis Tab done say to me, 
But he'p me, Lawd ! what do she 'spec' dese chillun gwine 
*o be? 
*Sides, dem names 's got er cur'us soun' — 
You says I 's hard to please? 
Well, so 'ould any granny be, wid sech a pa'r as dese. 

Ole Pahson Bob he 'low dat I 
Will suttinly be sinnin', 
Onless I gibs 'em names dat starts 'cm right in dc be- 
ginnin' ; 
"Iwilla" fer de gal, he say, 

F'om de tex' "I will a-rise," 
An* dat 'ould show she 's startin' up, todes fflory in de 
skies ; 

An' fer dis man chile, Aberham — 
De fardah ob 'em all — 
Or else Belshazzah, who done writ dat writin' on de wall ; 
i6 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

But Pahson Bob — axcuse me, Lawd ! — 
Hed bettah sabe his bref 
To preach de gospel, an' jes keep his 'visin' to hisse'f ; 

Fer nary pusson, white nor black, 
Ain' gib no p'int to me 
'Bout namin' dese heah Chris'mus gifs, asleep on granny's 
knee; 
(Now heshaby— don' squirm an' twis', 
Be still, you varmints, do! 
You ain' gwine hab no niggah names to tote aroun' wid 
you!) 

'Ca'se on de questiom ob dese names 
I sho is hed mah mine 
P^rzactly an' /^^rcidedly done med up all de time ; 
Fer mah po' Ceely Ann — yas, Lawd, 
Jes nigh afo' she died. 
She name' dis gal, "Neu-ral-gy," her boy twin, ''Hom-i- 
cide." 



17 



ROOS' HIGH, CHICKEN 



19 



ROOS' HIGH, CHICKEN 



A CHRISTMAS WARNING 



Dey says de beas'es knows de signs — 
Roos' high, chicken — roos' high; 

'Ca'se fros' is on de punkin vines, 

An yaller is de papaw rin's, 

An' dat mean Chris'mus come, I fin's — 
Roos' high, chicken — roos' high. 

You 'd bettah sleep wid one eye shet — 
Rods' high, chicken — roos' high; 

An' leab one yeah to heah wid yet, 

Or you '11 be yanked off fer a pet ; 

Now min' you, chicken — don' furget — 
Roos' high, chicken — roos' high. 

'Ca'se Chris'mus is a-comin' roun' — 

Roos' high, chicken — roos' high; 
An' sperits — Lawd! you jes be boun' 
Dey '11 be a-snoopin' on de groun' 
To ketch whateber kin be foun' — 
Roos' high, chicken-^oos' high. 

21 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

Mah mouf 's a-wat'rin', whe'r or not- 

Roos' high, chicken — roos' high; 
An' when you 's b'ilin' in de pot, 
Don't tell me dat you 's. mighty hot, 
An' dat mah 'vice you cl'ar furgot — 
Roos' high, chicken — roos^ high. 



22 



MARSE LINKUM'S MISTEK 



23 



When President Lincoln — ^through Congress — freed the 
negroes of the United States, at one fell swoop, he gained 
for the moment the plaudits of the disinterested world. 

Since then wise men, in reflective moments, have ques- 
tioned the prudence of his act; arguing that gradual 
emancipation would have been the more judicious and 
kindlier course to pursue. 

For the younger generation the edict appeared as a 
golden key, opening a gateway to the sunny paths of 
Freedom ; but to those whose thoughtful faces and bended 
forms told of declining years it was indeed but a pass- 
port to barren pastures 'neath sullen skies. 



24 



MARSE LINKUM'S MISTEK 

"Say, Judy, does you see now whar de Freedom part 

comes in, 
Ou' freedom dat de sojer-boys dey fight so hard ter win ? 
I neber knowed what slab'ry wuz, 'til jes heah sence de 

war. 
But now I 's fetter 'd wid his chains, mo' strong dan I 

kin b'ar. 

"Dey presses in de body, an' dey wuks into de mind, 
Till comfo't an' de peace o' Gawd I kin no longah find ; 
Caze co'se you ain't gwine 'joy de Lawd — dat fac' He 

sho mus' know — 
When hungah 'n col' come stalkin' in — 'out knockin' at 
de do'. 

"Great King! ef I could jes furgit dem days afo' de war. 
When Marstah seed we hed enough — yaas, honey, an' 

ter spar' — 
An' Miss Furginia, she so kind a-tendin' us — Lawd, me ! 
I wush Marse Linkum warn't so quick a-settin' ole folks 

free. 

"He mought 'a' knowed, wid white folks' sence, he done 
it all too soon — 
He sprung hit lak a huntin'-dog 's a-pouncin' on a 
coon — 

25 



DE NAMlf^' OB DE TWINS 

He mought 'a' know'd de old fo'ks 'ould 'a' drapt erlong 

de way, 
Lak corn-stalks in de furrows on a cold an' windy day. 

"Dis Freedom 's good enough, o' co'se, fur Ceely, Dan 
an' Dick, 

Caze dem young ones wuz lakly, an' could Tarn de free- 
dom trick ; 

But to ole folks wid stiffen'd j'ints, an' dimmin' in de 
eye, 

'Twuz lak you tu'n a ole blin' horse out on de fiel' to die. 

"At Mastah's home 't wuz sho 'nough free — de clo'es, de 
light, de wood, 
De corn-pone, an' de possum-fat — Lawd, Judy ! wa'n't it 

good? 
No lan'-lawd come dar, granny chile, a-pushin' fur de 

pay— 
Dat po'-trash man cyarn' know dat dis heah 's Dan'el 
Wehstah Clay — 

"De ole plantation coachman, what drobe his fo'-in-han', 
An' sot ez high, an' chaw'd ez large, ez any in de Ian' ; 
I gwine 'form him mah credik 's good — ole Mastah done 

sed so — 
An' wid dis sassin' 'bout mah rint, he bettah hed go slow. 

"I knows down Souf we 's in de fiel' at risin' ob de sun, 
But den old Mastah med it good, fur eb'ry stroke we 
done; 

26 



MARSE LINKUM'S MISTEK 

An' when de night-time come aroun', my ! how de ban- 
jos rung, 

An* how dem niggahs pat an' dance, an' how dey laugh 
an' sung. 

"You mind de time ole cross-eyed Pete, an' bandy-legged 

Joe, 
One night done dance de hoe-down, 'til dey fa'rly shuk 

de flo'. 
An' de white folks from de house come down — ole Mas- 

tah wid de res' — 
An' say he 'd gib a fiddle to de one dat done de bes' ? 

"De worl' 's cl'ar done furgot us sence Marse an* Miss is 

gone, 
An' lef ' us settin' heah to wait de blowin' ob de hawn ; 
Great Mastah! please don' you furgit to put in writin' 

down, 
Dat we 's to tread de golden streets, an' w'ar de golden 

crown — 

"Caze sho we 's 'arned a 'title cl'ar to mansions in de 

skies,' 
Whar Jesus at de frone o' grace will wipe ou' weepin* 

eyes, 
Fur we is done de bes' we could — de white folks cyarnt 

do mo' — 
So tell de Angel standin* dar, right by de heb'nly do', 

"A-pickin* out de ole white sheep, from dem what 's dyed 
in sin. 
To keep a good look-out fur us, an' sholy let us in ; 
27 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

He cyarnt mek no mistek, good Lawd! caze I kin tell 

you why: 
'Mah Judy, she 's lame in de back ; an' me, bHnd in one 

eye.' 

'An' Mammy, when we gits in dar, an' heahs 'em bust an' 

sing 
De praises ob de Bressed Lamb, an' glory to de King, 
I b'liebs I '11 hunt Marse Linkum up, an' jes will let him 

know 
Dat we did hab de closes' shabe a-gittin' froo dat do' ; 

'Caze, dough he done a righteous ac', I reckons, on de 

whole, 
De freedom dat he gib we finds wa'n't helpin' to de 

soul. 
An' so I gwine 'o say to him : 'Marse Linkum — 'scuzin' 

me — 
You sho did mek one big mistek a-settin' ale folks 

free!"* 



DS BAPTIZIN' Q' BLACK BETTY 



29 



DE BAPTIZIN' O' BLACK BETTY 

"Lawd bless you ! Sistah Betty Jane, 
What mek you trimble so? 
When you comes outen Tadpole Pon', 
You '11 be 'ez white ez snow.' " 

"No, Bruddah, I ain' ax dat much, 
But arter I 's dipt down 
I '11 sho be mo' dan satusfied 
Ter come up — choc'late brown." 



31 



'DOWN SOUK" 



33 



The idea may have prevailed in parts of our American 
land that, amongst other misfortunes, the negro of the 
South was overworked. 

The impression is entirely an erroneous one, for the 
servitors were so numerous that the servitude became 
light; and many a half-grown girl did no more than 
"keep de flies oflfen ole Miss"— or every day polish the 
fine old mahogany bed-posts. 



34 




1 's heerd u' Gin'l Lee an' Gin'l Grant — buc 1 ain' neher heerd 
o' no • gin'l housevvuk' " P''gc 35 



"DOWN SOUF" 

A SHORT time after the War a woman in Boston went 
to an Intelligence Office to secure a servant. 

Amongst others she was particularly attracted by a 
fine-looking colored girl about sixteen years old, with 
whom the following conversation took place: 

"What is your name?" 

" 'Ria, 'Ria Pin'leton, ma'am." 

"What are you here for ? What kind of work can you 
do?" 

"Lawd! I don' know, 'm — mos' any kind, ma'am." 

"Well, what have you done?" persisted the would-be 
employer, "for I am looking for a girl to do general 
housework. Do you think you can manage it?" 

"Lawd! I don' know, 'm. What is dat? I 's heerd 
o' Gin'l Lee an' Gin'l Grant — but I ain' neber heerd o' no 
'gin'l housewuk.' " 

"Oh," said the woman, "I mean a girl who can do 
everything, you know — cooking, washing, ironing, clean- 
ing, and all the rest of the work. Have you ever cooked ?" 

"Lawd ! no, 'm ; I ain' nuver 'zactly cooked. I 's been 
in de kitchen when de cookin' was bein' done, but Aunt 
Ailsie an' Aunt Marfy dey done ole Missus' cookin'." 

"Well, can you wash and iron?" 

"Lawd ! no, 'm ; I ain' nuver done no washin' nor iron- 
in', nuddah. Sis Tab an' Aunt Jinny done ole Missus' 
35 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

washin' an' ironin'. No, ma'am — umph, umph — I ain' 
eben do mah ozvn clo'es. I ain' sho I kin suit you in de 
washin' an' ironin' business — but den you mought try 
me." 

"Well, I guess you know all about housecleaning, eh?" 

"No, not 'zactly, 'm, caze Nervy an' Venus dey done 
all Missus' housecleaning — wid Mose an' 'Lijah ter wash 
de windahs an' clean de paint, an' ole Uncle Zeke ter 
shine de flo's. No, 'm, I ain' — nuver — done — dat — nud- 
dah. Lawd, Lawd!" (reflectively) "I 'clar, I didn' know 
how little I did do home — down Souf." 

"Well, I suppose you waited on the table, didn't you ?" 

"No, ma'am ; you suttinly is strikin' on de wrong p'int 
now. Pomp an' Csesah wait on ole Marstah's table — an' 
whoopee! dey shy me outen dat dinin'-room do' ef I so 
much ez put a foot in dar. No, ma'am, I ain' neber wait 
on no table, nuddah." 

"Well, what — did — you — do?" asked the astonished 
woman, whose curiosity was now thoroughly aroused. 
"What did you do down South, I should like to know?" 

"Lawd ! 'm — he ! he ! he — I use mos'ly to — keep — de — 
flies — offen — ole — Miss, an' hunt — 'er — specs." 

"Now, lady," said another bright-looking colored girl 
who was standing near, and evidently interested in the 
conversation, "I know'd dat gal wa'n't gwine 'o suit you, 
caze she don' know nuffin'. She ain' had no 'speunce lak 
/ 's had. You bettah tek me, caze when I 'uz down home 
I use ter — er — er — er — open de shettahs in de mawnin', 
an' rub — ole Missus' — bed-pos'es!" 



36 



AUNT GLORY'S MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 



37 



AUNT GLORY'S MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 

"You ain' neber heerd 'bouten dis heah c'tificum busi- 
ness — ain' you, Miss Sally ? Lawd, honey ! Mose is plum 
nigh tunned fool 'bouten it — say, he gwine hab one writ 
up, an' put in er shiny frame fer mah Chris' mus gif. He 
'low it '11 look rale eddicated fer ter see dat readin' an' 
writin' wid de names o' Glory an' Mose bof jined terged- 
der, a-hangin' on de wall. But de S'ord o' de Sperrit sho 
will come in. Miss Sally, an' 'vide de sheep f'um de goats 
— caze Ole Glory ain' — gwine — hab — none — ob — it. Here 
I 's been a-cookin' fer dat no-'count niggah sence long 
afo' de Wah, an' a-puttin' up wid all his debbilw/nf; but 
jes ez sho ez he go ter tie me dozvn wid one o' dem dar 
c'tificums — ^'long, chile — Ole Glory won' be dar ter tie. 

"No, Miss Sally, I ain' er 'lowin' ter ac' lak de po' 
white trash heah in Sleepy Creek, who — he'p me King! — 
is er buyin' dem c'tificums ; an' ef Mose Turnah come in 
dis cabin wid one o' dem ongodly perceedin's — 'fo' Gawd ! 
— Glory gwine 'o git out. 

"You ax how all dis heah fuss come stirred up? 

"Well, honey, one day when I was stan'in' heah in de 
cabin do', a-puffin' mah ole corncob pipe, all peaceable- 
lak, dere comes erlong one o' dem dar meddlin' mens 
f'om Conneticul, an', ez he hed a lean, hongry look, I ax 
him in de house to tek a cheer. 
39 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Well, he sot hisse'f down, an' I sees 'im a-castin' his 
eyes roun' de room, lak he was a-s'archin' fer some'in' 
nudder — when all ter once he bus' out er sayin': 'Miss 
Turner, whar is yo' c'tificum?' 

" 'C'tificum,' I says. 'Name o' Gawd ! man, what is 
dat?' 

" 'De c'tificum ob yo' mayage,' he say. 

" 'Well, dat ain' pesterin' me none, mistah,' I says. 
'What do hit look lak ?' 

" 'Wah, mah good 'oman,' he say, 'hit am de writin' 
what show dat you an' yo' husband was 'nited by de law 
an' de Gospel, an' is detarmine fer to lib tergedder all. de 
days ob yo' life. 

" 'I is a preachah ob de Wud,' he say, 'an' I 's come 
down Souf to show de cullud ladies an' gemmen de right 
way ter lib. I wants ter sell 'em all certificums, so I 's 
been a-goin' roun' yo' town a-seein' ef de fust famblies 
won' buy 'em, an' I heerd Mistah Turnah say he 'd lak to 
hab one.' 

" 'Well, look heah, man,' I says, 'we hain' got no c'tifi- 
cum, an' — he'p me, Lawd ! — we ain' gwine git none, nud- 
der; caze one o' dem c'tificums mek you feel jes lak a 
kickin' mule in de harness, an' ef you eber is broke a 
mule you knows what dat is. 

" 'Bruddah 'Lisha Jones, down heah,' I says, 'he got 
one o' dem fool t'ings when de Elder ma'y him to Sis 
Lucindy Brown ; an' Sis tole me dat he put it in er gol' 
frame on de wall, an' ebry time she see it lookin' at her, 
an' a-bindin' her lak a fettah, she feel herse'f a-loosin' an' 
a-loosin' f'om him, twell she jes natchelly could'n stan' 
it. So she done leab him — an' he a preachah-man, too — 
40 



AUNT GLORY'S MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 

an' tuk herse'f off wid dat yaller Jim Jackson, who 'clar' 
she kin leab when she got er mind ter. 

" 'Mah ole Miss,' I says ter him, 'ain' neber had one o' 
dem vtiommints to her mis'ry a-hangin' on de wall, an' 
she an' ole Marse lib down heah on de plantation ter- 
gedder fer mo' 'an forty yeah; an' what 's good 'nough 
fer mah ole Miss am jes good 'nough fer me.' An' I 
tole dat man she done tell us many times dat it warn't no 
way fer a Christium ter do — a-partin' deyselves. But, 
you sees. Miss Sally, Sis Lucindy warn't ter blame fer 
dat dividin', caze hit were all de fault ob — de — c'tificum, 

"Eb'ybody know dat ef you passes by de brackberry 
patch you ain' none de wus fer it; but ef you p'intedly 
jumps into de bresh — well, hit do mek er lot o' trouble. 
An' so hit is wid de niggahs; let 'em erlone, an' dey 's 
all right, but when you tries to mek er white sheep outen 
er ole black ram — Lawd ! chile — dar 's gwine 'o be buttin' 
ehry time, I kin tell you. 

"Well, honey, I skeer dat long-legged razor-back so, 
he ain' gib me no mo' directiom how to lib wid Mose, 
but he moobe right erlong, an' say he gwine 'o see Mistah 
Tumah 'bouten hit, a i' dat 's what 's a-pesterin' me — 
caze hit 'ould be rale onconvenient fer me to light out 
jes now. 

"You axes what in de name o' common sense I gwine 
do wid de chillun, ef I does go? — an' how many ob 'em 
is dey ob us? 

"Now, Miss Sally, you knows dey is sech er pizen lot 
o' dese heah little niggahs, dat — 'fo' de Lawd ! — I is done 
loss de track ob 'em long ago. 

"De Great King only know — an' He won' tell — what 
41 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

is gwine er come ob 'em, no mo' does I know mahse'f. 
Mose — sho — has — kep' — me — 'dustrous," she added in 
reflective tone, puffing at her corncob pipe, "a-habin' all 
dese heah forty-leben chillun ; an' er fine lot o' rapscal- 
lioms dey is — dat 's what I calls 'em — rapscallioms — caze 
you knows, Miss Sally, er rapscalliom am er chile what 
tek arter its daddy, an' sho all o' dese heah chillun is jes 
de ve'y spit o' Mose Turnah, 

"You ax how many ob 'em is dey? Well — lemme see. 
Hit wah nine — dat — time — when — dey — hab — de — ober- 
flow, an' fibe o' dem got drownded. An' sence den — heah 
come Sapolio, Tooty-Frooty, little spinlin' Job (Mose 
name him dat, caze he 'low he sholy am 'flicted lak de 
Profik, wid wuss 'an biles), San'iago de Cuby,* an' Hob- 
son Merrimac (dem is name fer de Spaniel Wah), an' 
den Lastes' an' Leab'er come, an' dey done wind up dis 
fambly tree. 

"You ax what I name 'em Lastes' an Leab'er fer, Miss 
Sally? You says you ain' neber heerd no names lak dat 
afo'? 

"No, 'm, I 'spec' not ; caze dem names was med up fer 
to suit de 'casiom. Mose, he call dat gal 'Lastes',' caze 
he 'low she be de lastes' one ob de bunch — an' den when 
de udder gal come, I calls her 'Leab'er,' caze Mose 'low 
it a-gittin' too hot roun' heah, an' he done leab me den — 
'ter git he bref,' he say" — and the old negro gave a 
chuckle. 

"But he done come back ergin — lak I knowed he 'ould 
—an' seem ter be a-'havin' hisse'f all right till dat dar 

♦These last four names are borne by little darkies in Albemarle 
County, Virginia. 

42 



AUNT GLORY'S MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE 

Conneticul man come aroun' an' stir him all up 'bouten 
dis heah c'tificum business, which / is p'intedly — gwine — 
ter — spile. Yaas, heah me, Lawd! jes — ez — sho — ez — 
mah — name — is — Gloriana. 

"Dere 's mo' dan one way ter 'kill er cat'; an' jes so, 
ef er pusson cyarn' rule de roos' wid dey mouf, dey 
mought do it wid dey foot. An' when hit come ter de 
las' pinch, Miss Sally, I is alius moobed by de Sperrit; 
an' so I go to de meetin' las' night, an' ax de Lawd ter 
guide dese willin' feet, an' show me what ter do. Well, 
honey, I no mo' 'an gib two or three big groans, an' rock 
mahse'f back an' fof — 'mos' a-tumblin' ober Bruddah 
'Lige Willums — when I heerd de Voice f 'om on high. An' 
hit say : 'Glory, don' you stan' no mo' imperence f 'om no 
man, an' don' you gib in to de mashinations ob de Debil.' 

"So, Miss Sally, ef de ch'ice lays 'tween me an' dat 
c'tificum, / is hoim' ter be dat ch'ice; caze, ef not, Ole 
Glory gwine 'bey de Wud what come to her, an' — git out. 
An', ef she go, she don' tek no baggage, nudder — heah 
me, Lawd ! — fer she come to Mistah Moses Deuteronomy 
Turnah outen dese heah leben chillun, an' — 'fo' Gawd ! — 
she — gwine — ter — leab — widout — 'em — too." 



43 



MAH HONEY 



45 



MAH HONEY 

De bee 's a-wukkin' all de day, 

A-stealin' from de vine 
Dat 's hangin', kine o' lazy, roun' 

Dis cabin-do' o' mine. 

He done got all de sweet 'nin' in 

Dat little bag o' his'n, 
An' now, afroo de siimmah air, 

I sees 'im jes a-whizzin'. 

Is he gwine tek it to de hibe. 

An' fill er little cell ? 
Lawd ! no, he ain' got no sech mind. 

I knows his track too well. 

He gwine right to dat Mandy dar, 

A-sleepin' 'neaf de tree. 
An' stick dat sweet 'nin' — umph ! / knows — 

A-Iayin' sto' fer me. 

An' when ahin' er cloud ter-night 

De moon 's about to dip, 
I 's gwine er do some thievin', too — 

An' steal it off her lip. 



47 



DE OLE BANJO 

A CHRISTMAS MEMORY 



49 



There is something very pathetic in old Uncle Rube 
trying to tune up his banjo, "ter mek beliebe" Christmas 
is come. 

Christmas is at once both the gladdest and saddest 
time of the year; gladdest to those who, in the sunny 
present, look only to a rosy future — saddest to those who, 
in a dreary present, look back upon a rosy past. 



50 



DE OLE BANJO 

A CHRISTMAS MEMORY 

"Wah, dis heah ain' no Chris'mus, chile, 
Ef de time is come aroun', 

An' snowflakes, lak de cotton-bolls, 
Is whitenin' all de groun' ; 
I 's done tuk up mah ole banjo, 
Ter mek beliebe hit 's come. 
But when de heart cyarn' sing de song, 
De banjo, too, is dum'. 

"I 's done mah bes' ter chune her up, 
But de pegs keeps slippin' back, 
Ontil hit 'pears dat her an' me 
Is bof done lost de track; 
But den de banjo — Lawd ! — she know, 
Dat she cyarn' do her part 

When she feel ole Rube is ailin' 
Wid dis miz'ry roun' de heart. 

"Mah fingahs, nudder, ain' so slick 
Ez what dey use ter be ; 
'Pears lak dey onct could play deyselves, 
Widout no he'p from me ; 
51 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

An' now — you tek dis notice, chile — 
To mek a banjo sing, 
De sperit ob de music got 
Ter be in eb'ryt'ing. 

'I 's seen de time de Pahson, when 
He heah dis ole banjo, 

'Ould tek ole Missus by de han , 
An' step out in de flo' ; 
But a banjo cyarnt stan' 'spons'bul 
Fur de debih^fn^ hit brings, 

When a niggah wid a happy heart 
Is settin' 'hind de strings, 

'De cabins all is empty now, 
Dat onct was gay an' bright, 

An' bats an' squinch-owls meks dey ha'nts 
Dare f roo de lonesome night ; 
I sees 'em in de ebenin's, chile, 
A-flyin' froo an' froo, 

Jes lak dey 'd bought 'em from ole Marse, 
An' paid de money, too. 

*De gre't house, lak a big tombstone, 
Stan's yondah, white an' sad, 
A-mo'nin' like fur we-all folks 
Dat use ter mek it glad. 
No logs is blazin' on de harf. 
No lights nor music dar. 
An' 't 'pears ter me dat ghoses, chile, 
Is movin' eb'rywhar. 

52 



DE OLE BANJO 

"Me tell you what is Chris'mus, den ? — 
Lawd ! boy, you 'd t'ink dat I 

Hed sho furgot de Bressed Book, 
An' 's mekin' up er lie; 
You neber seed sech times we hed, 
An' neber will, fur sho, 

Caze Freedom cum, jes 'fo' yo' day, 
An' shet de Mastah's do'. 

"Ter mek a Chris'mus, you mus' hab 
Yo' possum an' corn-pones, 

Wid some o' Mastah's whiskey, fur 
To limbah up yo' bones ; 
You 's boun' ter hab yo' 'bacco, 
Yo' buttah-milk, an' ham, 
Wid jole an' cabbage, Elim, 
An' a honey-drappin' yam. 

"An' den you 's boun' ter hab ole Miss 
A-sendin' down fur you, 

An' de chillun callin' 'Chris'mus gif',' 
Jes lak dey use ter do. 
Lawd ! no, dey ain' no Chris'mus now, 
Hit been gone sence de war, 
De bomb-shells carried it away 
When dey whuz froo de a'r. 

"Dis ole banjo — she know it gone, 
Caze I cyarn' mek her play, 

Dough I 's been try in' tight dese strings, 
Bes' part ob dis whole day. 
53 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

She knows dere ain' no dancahs heah, 
Lak in de days gone by, 

An' so she jes de same as 'cl'ars 
She ain' a-gwine 'o try. 

'So, granny, fix up Elim's bed; 
He done gone fas' asleep, 

A-huggin' up dat broom-stick gun 
He foun' dar in de heap. 
I 'd gib de worl' ef dis chile could 
Lib long enough ter see 

One Chris'mus lak we use ter hab— 
Dis ole banjo an' me." 



54 



DE BARN DANCE 



55 



DE BARN DANCE 

BY MARY FAIRFAX CHILDS 

''Hit is Chris'mus in de quartahs — 

Git de banjo f'om de wall, 
An' gib de darkies, eb'ry one, 

De ole-time Chris'mus call; 
Heah 's Sally Ann, an' Marfy Jane, 

Ole Zeke, an' Possum Joe, 
Aunt Sukey, an' dat gode-haid Bob, 

Jes eechin' fur de flo'. 

'Big Fiddlin' Jim 's done whoop us up 

Wid dat dar t'rum o' his'n. 
An' now de banjo — yes, my Lawd ! — 

Jes sees us all a-whizzin' ; 
Ole Pompey 's flingin' Mammy dar. 

An' little spinlin' Brown 
Done grab Aunt Polly by de wais'. 

To swing — free hund'ed poun'. 

'Dese yaller gals wid pompydohs, 
Dey swish dey skuts up high. 

An' grins lak chess-cats — sassy jades — 
Ez dey goes skittin' by ; 
57 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

An' sho we 'II dance to 'Money Musk' 

Ez long ez Jim '11 play — 
An' dat '11 be till roostah Pete 

Crow up de dawn o' day. 

"We 'chassez right,' an' 'chassez lef'/ 

'Swing cornahs' — 'balance all,' 
An' 'tu'n yo' pardnahs' — 'promenade,' 

Ez fas' ez he kin call ; 
We kicks each uddah on de shins — 

But what we keer fer dat ? — 
Ole Deacom Bob done kotch de fire. 

An' he 's begun to pat. 

"An' now chu'ch-membahs settin' roun'. 

Who wouldn' shek a toe, 
Jes feels de sperit wukkin' 'em, 

An' dey 's up on de flo' ; 
Kaze one pat ob de Deacom's foot 

Declar's — hit ain' no crime 
To hab yo' fling up in de barn 

On dis heah Chris'mus time." 



58 



THE "OLD MASTERS' 



59 



There is nothing so appealing to the lover of the old- 
time negro as his utter simplicity. 

Many years after the war an Exposition Hall was 
erected in one of our large Northern cities for the pur- 
pose of exhibiting choice pictures and works of art. 

An old Southern negro — who with his wife had long 
ago drifted to the great metropolis — in passing this build- 
ing overheard the remark, "the old masters will be in in 
the morning," 

This was, of course, in allusion to the rare and valued 
paintings which have fallen as a legacy to mankind. 

But to his simple intelligence it represented but one 
idea — the coming of the old masters from the South "to 
see de sights," which gladsome news he gives to his wife 
Dinah in the following words : 



60 




' Oh, sah, 1 's jes drapt in ter see ef ///)' ole nia.^tah 's heah " 

Page 6l 



THE "OLD MASTERS" 

"Lawd ! Dinah chile, git up an' shout, an* bress de Lawd 

dis day! 
Caze, ez I 's gwine erlong de street, I heerd de white 

fo'ks say — 
Dese ole yeahs heerd it, mammy, jes ez sho ez I is 

bawn — 
Dey said dat de ole Marstahs wuz a-comin' in de mawn. 

"I 'uz gwine 'long by dat buildin' dey 's been wukkin' on, 

you know, 
An' whar dey said dey 'low'd ter hab dat great big pic- 

tur' show ; 
An' I 'spec' hit all is ready, wid dem gran' 'lectricium 

lights ; 
An' dey 's 'vited de ole Marstahs fur ter come an' see 

de sights. 

"I 's sorry you 's so po'ly dat you cyarn' git out at all, 
Caze I gwine in de mawnin', sho, I g^ine right to dat 

hall, 
An' see ef my ole Marstah 's dar, who wuz so good to 

me 
Afo' Marse Linkum writ de wo'ds 'at set de darkies 
free. 

6i 



DE NAM IN' OB DE TWINS 

'1 '11 tell him all about de onconven'ences we 's had, 
De col' an' hungah we 's gone froo, wid rheumatiz so 

bad; 
An' his hyart '11 come nigh bustin' when he knows you 

's laid in bed, 
A-wantin' fur a cup o' tea, an' fur a bite o' bread. 

'I '11 tell him dat de wuk wuz skeerce, an' mighty hard 

to fine, 
Caze dey gibs it to de niggahs 'at 's got youngah ban's 

dan mine. 
Dere 's no mo' room fur ole fo'ks — dey 's all done had 

deir day — 
An' now dey 's stumblin' 'long de road, jes takin' up 

de way! 

'But I couldn' hab lef you nohow — I 's boun' ter put you 

fus' — 
Bekaze I tuk you, Dinah, 'fur bettah or fur wus'; 
Dem 's jes de wo'ds de Pahson read when we stood on 

de flo'. 
In our ole Missus' parlor mo' 'an fifty yeahs ago. 

'I '11 ax him 'bout de good ole home an' han'some Massa 

Jack, 
Who went a-marchin' to de war an' neber had come 

back; 
I '11 ax him 'bout de cabin whar de chillun used to play, 
Ez happy ez de guinea-pigs froo all de lib-long day ; 
62 



THE "OLD MASTERS" 

"An', Dinah chile, what does you f rink I gwine 'o ax him, 

too? 
I '11 beg-, when he goes back down Souf, he '11 tek bof 

me an' you; 
I '11 tell him 't won' be long afo' de good Lawd calls us 

'come,' 
An' we wants Him beckon to us from de little cabin 

home." 

The next day in the Artists' Hall, where Fashion's 

throng did meet, 
An aged negro, hat in hand, approached with trembling 

feet. 
"What '11 you have, Old Fo-de-war?" asks one, advanc- 
ing near. 
"Oh, sah, I 's jes drapt in ter see ef my ole Marstah 's 
heah. 

"I heerd he would be heah to-day" — and modestly he 

stood. 
And gazed with frightened look upon the faces strange 
and rude. 
"But I don' see him" — -and a tear begruned his dusky 

cheek, 
Though mute, more eloquent than words his falt'ring 
lips could speak. 

He turned and, with a tott'ring step, passed out the mas- 
sive door. 

And left the gay and glitt'ring crowd, as careless as 
before — 

63 



DE NAM IN' OB DE TWINS 

Unconscious that a Christian heart, so simple, fond and 

true, 
Was breaking 'neath that tattered coat of thin and faded 

blue. 

With weary step he shuffled on, back to his humble 

room. 
And cried : "Oh, Dinah ! he warn't dar — ole Marstah 

didn't come ! 
I went right up de big stone steps, an* stood widin de 

do', 
But dere warn't a single pusson dar I eber seed afo'. 

'De Lawd, He '11 have to he'p us b'ar dis burden ob de 

day, 
An' gib His sarvents patience fur to trus' an' watch an' 

pray. 
Ole Marstah, he won' come to us" — great tears his eyes 

bedim — 
''An' we mus' wait, ole woman, 'til we can go to Him." 
******* 

One grave, long since in Southern land, had lain 'neath 

orange-bloom ; 
And in the city's pauper-lot two exiles found a tomb ; 
All 's over now — the three sleep low, beneath the quiet 

sod — 
But they have found "ole Marstah" in the Paradise of 

God. 



64 



LITTLE ABE'S SOLILOQUY 



65 



LITTLE ABE'S SOLILOQUY 

"I 's TIRED ob edicatiom — 

'T ain' got no sence no way, 
Kaze I kyarn' see why 'two — slant — lines, 
Wid — one — across, meks A.' 

"An' den de teachah say — 'er — ^line 

Wid— two— half Os is B/ 
But what 's de good o' knowin' dat 
Is mo' dan I kin see. 

"I 'd ruddah play de juce-harp, on 
De bench by Mammy's do'; 
I 'd ruddah hunt de possum, when 
De moon 's a-dippin' low; 

"I 'd ruddah pick de cotton, when 
De sun 's a-shinin' hot. 
Or hold de calf, when Sally Ann 's 
A-milkin' in de lot. 

" 'Some day you may be Presidint/ 
De teachah say to me, 
'Ef you '11 do sums an' writin' good, 
An' I'arn yo' A B C 
67 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"But Pap say, 'Readin' ain' no 'count 

To he'p a boy to hoe/ 
An' dat 's what he gwine feed me fer- 
So books '11 hev to go. 

"Yaas — I'arnin's mighty pesterin'; 
So I 'lows — no indeed, 
I — ain' — gzuine — be — no — FrQsidint, 
Ef I is got to — read." 



69, 



PARSON PETE'S SERMON 



69 



PARSON PETE'S SERMON 
"Berhol', I shows you a myst'ry." 

"Hit do mos' gin'lly fall on de preachah, mah belubbed 
bredren, to 'splain de wuds ob de tex', but in dis heah in- 
stunce Ole Pete ain' a-gwine 'o try; kaze de 'postle an' 
de 'pistle hisse'f dey bof says p'intedly— dey is a myst'ry, 
an' dat settles it. 

"What is a myst'ry ? Well, dat is de questiom. Wah, 
a myst'ry is, o' co'se, sumpin de Lawd don' wan' you 
know nuttin' 't all 'bouten, or He 'd a-tol' you ; kaze ef 
you knozvs hit, an' kin 'splam hit, den er bline mule could 
see hit ain' no myst'ry, 

"Dere 's ontirely too much 'splainin' ob de Scripters 
now, mah bredren ; fo'kses don' swaller hit down, lak de 
Lawd attended dey should ; no, sah, dey jus' fixes hit up 
wid some kine o' sweet'nin', fer to kill de tase ob hit — 
lak hit wah a dose o' ile. But heah me, chillun ! ef you — 
spec — hit — to — do — de — wuk, you — is — got — to — swaller 
— hit — in — de — natchel — state. 

"Some o' de white fo'ks nowadays — so I heern a 
preachah-man say — dey 'clars dey 's a-gwine git to de 
'bottom-rock' ob eb'ryt'ing; but, mah bredren, how — is 
— dey — gwine — git — dar ? 

"Dis 'gittin' dar' am a mighty treach'rous groun', chil- 
71 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

lun; heap wusser dan de ole marsh down dere in de 
grabe-yard, an' I mahse'f — who been de cap'n o' dis ole 
Chu'ch o' Zion, lo ! dese forty yeah — I 'clars eben / is 
afear'd to set mah foot on de road o' Reason. 

"Kaze, jes as soon as de Debil see you tek dat er way 
— an' he alhis a-lookin' out fer you lak a rampin' an' 
*a roarin' Hon' — so de Bibul say — he gwine come erlong 
wid dat dar clove-hoof o' his'n, an' dem slick, butt'ry 
wo'ds, an' tu'n you offen de track o' Faif, a-bringin' 
trouble — jes lal< he done bring it afo', when he swade 
Miss Ebe fer to eat dat apple one time. 

"An', mah sistern, an' mah bredren, berlieb me when 
I says dat de human minds o' we po' sinnahs kyarn' be- 
gin to tek in de wonderful wo'ks ob de Lawd, no mo' 
dan kin de gruntin' ole sow in de pig-sty onderstan' what 
ole Marstah is done in de past, an' what he gwine 'o do 
in de mawnin', 

" 'Berhol', I shows you a myst'ry !' Yaas, lambs o' de 
flock, an' sheeps o' de fol', de Great Mastah don' show 
us nuffin' else, fer eb'ry t'ing He done made am a mys- 
t'ry, an' whar, in de name o' Gawd ! is de man what kin 
onderstan' it hisse'f — much less 'splain it ? 

"Now, tek fer de fus' mattah our eb'ry-day 'speunce 
wid de chicken an' de aig. We don' know nuttin' 't all 
'bout de fus' principums ob dat aig, dough — he ! he ! he ! 
— eb'ry niggah know 'bout de chicken — some ob you mos' 
in pertickler; but de wises' man in all de worl', from de 
Jedges cl'ar plum down to Marse Noah — who done tote 
dat chicken in de Ark wid 'im — he kyarn' 'form you 
ivhich was med dc fits'. De chicken mek de aig — ef you 
let 'im erlone, an' de aig '11 mek de chicken, if you jes 
72 



PARSON PETE'S SERMON 

gib 'im time ; but de on'splainable myst'ry am : Which — 
come — de — f us' ? 

"Now, de preachah, or de profik, what kin 'lighten me 
on dat p'int, let him come wid his I'arnin' an' do so; 
but, mah dearly belubbed bredren, dey don' know no mo' 
'bouten hit dan do ole Aunt Ailsie's baby a-sleepin' dar 
on its muddah's bre's', kaze de Great King who writ de 
Book, He say it am a myst'ry. An' so is de fillin' ob de 
Ark, de 'vidin' ob de Jordan, de feedin' wid de manna, 
de speakin' ob de ass (dough I don' persidder dat in no 
ways 'markabul, kaze we 's all heern mo' asses speak — 
yaas, my Lawd! — dan we 's eber heern bray). An' now 
'bout dat bray in'. I feels hit mah bounden juty to warn 
you, chillun of grace, dat dere 's a ass right on dis fiel' — 
jes heah, close to de pulpit, an' ready to 'dress de meetin' 
when I sets down. 

"You all sees 'im, an' know'd 'im on de plantatiom as 
'Slipp'ry Sam,' but heah he come back, wid his new- 
fangled bombacious talk, a-callin' hisse'f de Rev. Samuel 
Allison Callaway — a-struttin' long heah 'mong Marstah's 
ole people, a-airin' his sto'-clo'es an' his onbelief. 

"You all 'membahs his Pap an' Mammy, born down 
heah on de ole Summerville plantation — reg'lar good ole 
dippin' Baptists — a-weepin' at de monah's bench while de 
meetin' wah in sessiom, an' on de way back to de cabin, 
sometimes a-bre'kin' up de sessiom dat de Cochin Chinys 
an' de Plymuf Rockahs was a-holdin' on dey roos'. (Yaas, 
my Lawd! ef de ghos'es ob chickens could jes come back 
an' talk!) Howsomeber, de chariot done swung low fer 
dem long ago, an' dey now is a-wearin' ob de 'golden 
slippahs,' an' 'a-swingin' on de golden gate,' plum igno- 
73 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

ran' ob de fac' dat dere 'Slipp'ry Sam' am a-deavorin' to 
slip up de ole bed-rock Christioms ob de Chu'ch o' Zion. 

"But we kyarn' be too hard on dem, kaze dey was pus- 
swaded to de eddicatiom by date po'-trash furriner who 
come down heah, a-onsettHn' all our peoples wid his 
white-fo'ks notions. He didn't hab no idee what a woolly 
haid is lak; but you-all knows f'om speunce dat it ain' 
no mo' lak a wbite-fo'k's haid inside dan it is outside. No, 
sar, dere 's a pow'rful lot o' diff'unce atween 'em. A 
white haid am got all de diff'ent 'pa.vtmints inside ob it, 
fer to hoi' de halgebrys, de gometrys, de physmatics, de 
spellin', an' all de res' ob dem sciences ; but a woolly haid 
is jes got one 'partmint in hit, an' dat am fer to hoi' de 
knowledge ob de banjo, de cotton-fiel', de 'tater-patch, an' 
de — chick 'n roos' ! Now, when all dem 'strep'rous idees 
git jumbled up in de niggah's haid, dat one little hole 
dar git so full it jes busses — an' den de niggah ain' got 
no place to hoi' nuffin' — he ain' got no sense at all. Den. 
you see, de kintry hit done los' a jedge, or a Fresidint, or 
som'n, an' ole Marstah he done los' a fiel' han'. 

"Now, dat jes de way wid dis heah boy ob Zeke an' 
Liny. Fus', de fool idee git inter Zeke an' Liny's haids 
dat dey mus' hab 'im lak young Marse Aleck an' Marse 
George, an' dat idee, chillun, putty nigh busses dey ole 
skulls wide open ; so dey sen's him ofifen to dat eddicatiom 
school whar dey gits de I'arnin', an' de I'arnin' got inter 
his haid — an' plum busses hit ; de quinsequonces ob which 
you all done seed fer yo'se'f. 

"Caze ain' he come back down heah — de ongodly pus- 
secutor an' back-slider — an' preach dat he ain' gwine ber- 
lieb nuMn 't all, whar he kyarn' un'erstan'? Ez if de 
74 



PARSON PETE'S SERMON 

Lawd was gwine 'o mek t'ings so easy lak, dat eben a 
fool nig-gah could tek 'em all in. No, bress Gawd ! dey 
is myst'ries ! an' we kyarn' none ob us on'erstan' 'em on- 
til we sees Him face to face — lak He tell us. 

"But de Debil, you know — mah belubbed bredren — kin 
tek de form o' man ; so I is mons'ously skeered less'n dis 
citified niggah heah gwine onsettle de faif ob some o' ole 
Marstah's baid-rock beliebers, who I 's done been 'zortin' 
wid fer de las' forty yeah ! 

"Dere ain' no use a-talkin' 'bout it, mah chillun, but it 
sometimes do 'pear to me lak de Lawd He jes a-tryin' 
fer to mixen us up on a puppose, fer to tes' our Faif. 
Kaze de Bibul He done gib us am a cur'us Book, fer de 
reason kaze de lessen you knows ob hit, de wisah you 
railly is. Fer don' de Gospel p'intedly say, dat onless 
you 's 'simpul ez a little chile' you kyan' see de Kingdom ? 

"Now, mah chillun, you sho kin draw de mos' comfut 
f'om de wuds — you dat ain' eddicated in de semitaries, 
nor hain' got de hifalutin' Tarnin' ob de white fo'ks — 
kaze hit don' say nuthin' 't all 'bouten de algebry, nor 
dem gometry books, whar I heahs Marse George a-wras- 
tlin' wid; hit don' say eben 'bout knowin' ez much ez 
Bruddah Tomkins heah, who done 'vince us all, dat he 
been edified by de Sperit. Hit don' say nuffin' 't all 'bout 
knowin' when de rain is gwine 'o rain, an' de snow 's 
a-gwine 'o snow lak ole 'ram-butt' Bill — what kin talk 
to — yaas, Lawd ! — an' on'erstan' de possums an' de coons 
what tells 'im all de weddah-signs. 

"No — hit don' say nuffin' on all dem p'ints, but one 
t'ing hit do say, an' dat dey ain' no 'sputin' 'bout ; hit do 
say : 'Berhol', I shows you a myst'ry.' Yaas, chillun, an' 
75 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

stacks an' stacks on 'em, which we 's jes p'intedly boun' 
to beHeb; kaze de good Book done say dat widout Faif 
hit am 'onpossibul to please Gawd.' An' dough hit ain' a 
beholdin' o' me fer to specerlate on de wharabouts ob 
any bruddah — whar he is, or whar he gwine — arter he 
leab dis planetary system, I tells you, chillun ob de 
Chu'ch of Zion, dis heah ole Pete who, lak mah Bruddah 
Paul, am de leas'es ob de 'postles — he ain' afeerd to per- 
nounce it fer a fac' dat dat wild an' haid-strong bruddah 
what don' swaller all dem cur'us myst'rys, what de Lawd 
done tol' us, he sholy gwine wish some day dat he kin 
come back f'om dat place whar he is, an' git jis one mo' 
drap o' water, fer to cool his tongue, outen ole Tadpole 
Pon'.' " 



76 



MANDY AND "OLE MISS"; OR, AFTER MANY 
DAYS 



77 



In the vicissitudes of war the lots of family, fortune 
and friends is not unusual. 

These verses refer to a Southern woman — a native of 
Louisiana — who, penniless and afflicted, was placed by 
relatives in a hospital, where she remained so long as 
to outlive those who provided for her. 

In the case of a charity patient it is but a step from 
the hospital to the almshouse, and the desolate, deserted 
woman soon found herself one of its inmates. 

She had been there but four weeks when an old negro 
— a servant of bygone days — heard of it and, though liv- 
ing at some distance, came to look after "Miss Lucy," 
took her from the poorhouse to her own humble quar- 
ters, and went out washing to support her. 

One who understands the negro nature will find this 
poem true to life. 

Mandy's allusion to the old lame deacon's "mekin' tawk 
afo' de free-bawn trash" shows the position of superiority 
which upper-class negroes of the South felt toward those 
"who neber had no Miss." 

Pride in their Master's family was a preeminent fea- 
ture — and the poorhouse a never-dreamed-of destiny, too 
fearful to consider. 

' In her delicacy, you see, old Mandy alludes to it as 
"dis boa'din'-house." 



78 



MANDY AND "OLE MISS"; OR, AFTER MANY 
DAYS 

"Great King o* Saints! Miss Lucy, is dis you. honey 

deah? 
De Lawd He knows I neber 'spec' to see my mistis 

heah; 
Ole Mandy 's come to git you, chile, an' carry you away, 
Whar she kin lub an' keer fur you— what, honey ? what 

you say? 

"Why ain' I come no sooner? Lawd bless me! I declar' 
I neber know'd whar you is been sence eenin' o' de 

war; 
Las' night at meetin', Humpin' Joe, de ole lame deacon, 

say 
He know you in dis County Home — he seed you cl'ar 

ez day. 

"I 'd jes come f'om de mo'nahs' bench when he say dat 
to me, 
Or I 'd a-cussed him, den an' dar, fur sassin' up so 

free. 
I tol' him shet his punkin-haid — so mad I mos' was 

cryin' — 
But den I 'low'd I 'd come to-day, an' see ef he were 
lyin'. 

79 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"De idee o' dat blacksome wretch a-mekin' talk lak dis 
Afo' de free-bawn niggah trash what neber hed no 

'Miss'! 
But don' you mind dat now, chile — you come erlong — 

yaas, do; 
Kaze I is got a leetle room, jes big enough fur two ; 

"An' I kin wuk — dese hard ole hands kin do de washin' 

yit, 

An' I '11 gib you de bigges' ha'f ob eb'ryt'ing I git ; 
Hit won' be no Une libin' — but, honey, don' you keer — 
Be bettah dan dis boa'din'-house, wid all dis 'po'-trash' 
heah. 

"To t'ink wese famhly come to dis ! Great Marstah ! I 

declar' 
You sho does press dis bustin' heart wid mo' dan it kin 

b'ar ; 
But — come erlong wid Mandy, chile; t'ings mought be 

wuss, you see, 
Kaze now, ole Missus, I 's got you, an' you 's got po' 

ole me. 

"I gwine 'o mek dat leetle room shine brightah dan a pin, 
Bekaze to hab you dar, ole Miss, '11 be lak home agin ; 
An' till de trumpet soun' fur you to walk de golden 

street, 
You jes shall fol' dem little ban's, an' res' dem little feet. 

"I 's got a tolabul ole baid, which I keeps clean an' white; 

An' I kin mek a pallet down, an' sleep by you at night; 

80 



MANDY AND 'OLE MISS" 

I 's got a good split-bottom cheer — dat cheer I '11 alius 

keep — 
Bekaze I rock'd de babies dar, an' sung 'em off to sleep. 

'You cryin', honey? Does I see de teahs roll down yo' 

face? 
Well, now, Miss Lucy, don' you gib no sech commo- 

tioms place; 
Kaze we will lib togedder, chile — jes lak it use to be — 
'Cept I '11 be keerin' now fer you, whar you once keer'd 

fer me." 
******* 
In fond embrace, two women from the almshouse walked 

away; 
The one was white, the one was black — and both were 

old and gray; 
But angels of the sunset skies saw more, saw deeper 

yet — 
They saw the true, the priceless heart in ebon casket 

set. 



8i 



WHEN EBENIN' COMES 



83 



WHEN EBENIN' COMES 

De sun, he 'lows ter hide 'is Hght — 
An' I don' know but what he 's right- 
Kaze hit won' do to shine too bright 

When ebenin' comes. 

Dat summah-gal — de lady moon, 
A-smilin' from de sky in June, 
Gibs jes de light ter suit a "coon'* 

When ebenin' comes. 

I lubs ter set aside de do', 

An' t'rum upon mah ole banjo. 

An' play de sweetes' chunes I know, 

When ebenin' comes. 

Or else I walks wid Lindy Jane 

Adown ole MarstaJi's rail-fence lane, 
An' tells her what I got ter 'splain, 

When ebenin' comes. 

An' Lindy ? Lawd ! she heah me, too, 
An' 's mighty glib ter he'p me froo, 
Lak all dese gals is sho ter do. 

When ebenin' comes. 



85 



OLE JOE AN' DE YALLER MULE; OR, "FAITH- 
FUL UNTO DEATH" 



8^ 



At a late reunion of the Confederate veterans in Rich- 
mond, Virginia, it was noted that the rear of their pro- 
cession was composed entirely of old negro men. 

These had faithfully followed and served their masters 
during the war, and were entitled to a place in those 
ranks, which now, gradually thinning out, can never call 
for reinforcements. 

There could be nothing more affecting in history than 
the sight of these faithful colored servants accompanying 
the master to the field, waiting on him, fighting with him 
and, in many instances, bearing home his letters and per- 
sonal trinkets when dead. 




In fond embrace two women, from the almshouse, walked awav. 
The one was white, the one was black, and both were old and gray 

Page 8p ' 



OLE JOE AN' DE YALLER MULE; OR, "FAITH- 
FUL UNTO DEATH" 

"I TELL you how it wuz, ole Marse, de mens 'uz drappin' 

roun', 
Jes lak de leabes f'om off de trees is kiv'rin' up de 

groun' ; 
An' on ole Bob, Marse Harry he come chargin' f'om de 

rair, 
His sode an' gun a-glisterin' lak sunshine in de air. 

"Ole Bob he snort an' toss his haid, a-trimblin' at de fire, 
While in de stirrup, eager lak, Marse Hal rise high an' 

higher — 
While I wuz clost ez I could git, a-prayin' all de time 
Dem Yankee balls 'ould pass him by, an' spar' dat chile 

o' mine. 

"But, Lawd! ole Marse, de pra'r wuz yit a-hangin' on 
mah lip 
When, Great King! in de gully dar, ole Bob he give a 

slip — 
An' den he an' Marse Harry done drapted from mail 

sight, 
A-fallin'— lak I know'd he 'd fall— in fo'mos' ob de 
fight! 

89 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Fur dat bullet turn'd no cornahs'— hit hed one t'ing in 

min', 
Which wuz to pick de braves' mark dere wuz erlong de 

Hne — 
An' so he hit po' white-foot Bob right squar' dar in de 

haid, 
An' down he come a-rolHn' 'mong de dyin' an' de daid. 

"I 'uz on ole Jude, de yaller mule you 'vised me fur to 

ride, 
Bekase you 'low'd dey warn't no ball gwine punctuate 

he's hide, 
Which wuz, I sw'ars! de Gospel trufe; kaze, 'cep'n fur 

dat skin, 
Dis niggah 'd been at Heben's gate, a-pleadin' to git in ; 

"Fur when a ball come whizzin' 'long I heerd a funny 

soun'. 
An' I 'low'd me an' ole Judas wuz dyin' on de groun' — 
But no, sah! he jes hump hisse'f, kaze he didn' lak de 

shock. 
An' me? Lawd! I sot stiddy as 'de house upon de 

Rock.' 

"When Bob drapt, co'se Marse Harry drapt, an' 'fo' dat 
he could rise, 
Dey — chargin' lak de Debil's men, wid cusses an' wid 

cries — 
Jes trode him down, ole Marstah, an' when I nex' seed 

him 
His wuds wuz sof an' quav'rin' — his eyes wuz gittin' 
dim. 

90 



OLE JOE AN' DE YALLER MULE 

"Wc moved him from de battle-fiel' to underneaf a tree, 
Whose kind ole branches from de sun dey shaded him 

an' me; 
An' den I fotch him watah from a spring right close to 

han', 
An' tu'ns him so dat he mought res' as easy as he can. 

"My Gawd! it lak to bre'k mah heart to see him lyin' 

dar, 
Dat white look on his face, an' blood a-soakin' in his 

ha'r; 
So down I sets an' lays his haid right lovin' on mah 

knee, 
An' den he raise his dimmin' eyes an', lookin' up at me, 

"I says: 'Marse Harry, time ain' come fur sech as you 

to go; 
Oh, Lawd ! I wush you 'd change de place wid dis ole 

triflin' Joe, 
Kaze I 'ould ruddah die right heah dan tek mahse'f back 

home. 
An' tell ole Marstah, waitin' dar, you 's neber gwine to 

come.' 

" 'Yes, Joe,' he says, a-trimblin' lak, an' pressin' ov mah 

han', 
'You '11 hev to go back home, ole boy, as soon now as 

you can ; 
Jus' look aroun' de tent, take back de little I 's got lef, 
An' tell 'em all, fur me, dat you wuz "faifful unto def;" ' 
91 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

" 'Don' talk dat way,' I sez ; 'Marse Hal, you 's been de 

same to me, 
An' faiflful one meks faifful two, as fur as I kin see.' 
So, heah I is, ole Marstah, dough I cyarn' mek it plain ; 
Dese 'screpancies ob Froxidence is moughty hard to 

'splain. 

"Ole Joe cyam' tell why he come back wid dis ole yaller 

mule, 
Whose eb'ry reputatiom p'ints to bein' jes a fool, 
While our Marse Hal, an' white-foot Bob, heah in dey 

manhood prime, 
Wuz knockted off the tree o' life afo' dey come to time. 

"You ax who bury him? T'ank Gawd! ole Joe done dat 

hisse'f. 
I sot by him, ole Marse, ontil he brebe his las'es' bref ; 
An' arter dat de King o' Heb'n done shet his eyes in 

sleep, 
I drapted on mah knees an' prayed de Lawd his 'soul to 

keep.' 

"Ob co'se, mos' 'lastin'es' respec's I 's boun' show Judas 

now 
(I 's done tuk off mah cap to him, wid mah polites' bow). 
But sence his ole hide sheds de balls. Great King ! I wush 

dat he 
Had rid Marse Harry 'long dat line, an' lef ole Bob to 
me. 

92 



OLE JOE AN' DE YALLER MULE 

'So I griebs to say, ole Marstah, I 's heah, wid Judas, 

too, 
Who, lak dat Balaam's Bible ass, has sholy tote me f roo ; 
Kaze, neber fearin' shot nor shell, nor flamin' ob de 

s'ord, 
Jes went his way, a-bearin' on dis sarbent ob de Lawd." 



93 



'NAME THIS CHILD' 



95 



It was no unusual thing in the South for negroes to 
bring their children to the church for baptism. 

This was particularly true amongst the Episcopal fami- 
lies of Virginia who, being widely scattered, in many in- 
stances erected and attended the little church on their 
own, or a neighboring, plantation. 

The negroes' love for Bible names is a faithfully re- 
corded fact ; and the giving of such to their children, in 
the most ridiculous manner, was one of the interesting 
features of plantation life. 

In their choice they often showed great originality, as 
in the following case. 



96 



"NAME THIS CHILD" 

—Baptismal Service 

"Scape o, Mastah, is de name I 
Done pick out fer him," 
Old Hannah whispers — standing in 
The Chapel, lighted dim. 

"Scape o?" repeats the Rector. "Why, 
What kind of name is this ?" 

"A Bibul name, Marse Henry, dat 's 
P(?rzactly what it is, 

"Kaze in de bressed Scriptur' Book — 
I heern 'em read it so — 
Hit say, 'When Moses clum de Mount 
He view de lan'scape o'.' " 



97 



OLE 'LIJAH'S WEDDIN' 

A PLANTATION EPISODE 



99 



The fickleness of woman and the inconstancy of man 
is not alone confined to the heroes and heroines of song. 

Cupid, sly archer, plays his pranks everywhere — not 
only amongst the grandees of higher life, but as well 
amongst the lowly, 'way down South, where the banjos 
ring. 

How one saucy maid served the gay Lothario of the 
plantation will be seen in the following. 



Ik'' 






> JMfl^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 


1 ^ 





Lawd! marstah, I done change mah mind — I gwine tek fid- 
dlin' Jim " Page 1 01 



OLE 'LIJAH'S WEDDIN' 

A PLANTATION EPISODE 

"Hello dar, Rasmus; come right heah, an' try yo' 

pigeon-wing, 
While Billy pat de juba, an' Torm chune up an' sing; 
I 's tooken down de fiddle, an' resined up de bow — 
Hit 'pears ter me, you lazy-bones is movin' moughty 

slow. 

"Don' you know dat Bruddah 'Lijah gwine 'o ma'y Sal 

Jones ter-night? 
(I neber b'liebed dat ole black dog could cotch a coon so 

light.) 
But he 'tarmined fur to git her, an' he got her — so he 

say. 
Yaas, I knowed his mine wah med up, from Aunt 

Jinny's buryin'-day, 

"Caze when dat po' ole wife o' his'n wah lyin' dar so sick, 
'Lije boas' he gwine 'o ma'y ergin, an' he gwine do it 

quicks- 
He 'lowed he 'd git de laklies' gal dis ole plantation got. 
An' on Bro' Simon's Sally Ann I seed his eyes wuz sot. 

"So co'se we 's boun' ter reel an' jig when he jine frisky 
Sal, 
Caze he feelin' moughty shaky 'bout gittin' ob dat gal; 
Fur it wuz jes yistiddy he done 'fided unto me 
He 'd no mo' sho o' gittin' her dan cotchin' ob a flea. 

Lore. 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Dese 'hearsals ob de 'formance is de bery lates' t'ing — 
Dough Ras, we knows, is mastah han' to cut de pigeon- 
wing — 
Caze when Marse Dan ma'y Miss PauHne on Chris'mus, 

don' you know, 
De 'formahs 'formed deir 'formances plum froo de day 
befo'? 

"So, Rasmus, try yo' pigeon-wing, an' Billy pat an' dance 
(Dat warn't yo' best — now onct agin — I '11 gib you nud- 

dah chance). 
Fur Marse an' Miss '11 be down heah. You don' b'lieb 

what I say? 
Ob co'se ole Marstah 's comin' down to gib de bride 
away." 
******* 

*Tis evening — and the cabin glows with royal, blazing 

fire, 
Which dances on those dusky forms in gaudiest attire; 
The flames roar loud and sing and leap far up the 

chimney wide, 
A-welcoming with glowing heart Ole 'Lijah and his 

bride. 

Here sits Aunt Vic — the parson's wife — her next Cas- 
sandra, then 

Is Cleopatra, whose weird charms had "cunju'd" all the 
men; 

For, queen amongst the dusky swains — like "sorc'ress 
of the Nile" — 

Mad "Antonys" she, too, had won with her alluring 
smile. 

102 



OLE 'LIJAH'S WEDDIN' 

Black Mammy leans in easy chair, supreme amongst the 

rest, 
Her dear old head bandana-crowned, and 'kerchief 

'cross her breast, 
A-chiding now those giggling girls — Rose, Snowflake, 

Celestine, 
Diana, Topsy, Anarchy, Rox Ann and Josephine. 

Here stands the coachman — Daddy Dave — with Jerry, 
Peter, Paul, 

And blind old Simon, who declares he 's "come ter see 
it all," 

While close in group Erasmus, who will cut the pigeon- 
wing. 

With the famous Tom, and Billy, to pat and dance and 
sing. 

And foremost in that smiling crowd the Master, tall 

and gray, 
Steps near the proud old parson's side, to give the bride 

away; 
Whilst, calm and fair, ole Missus stands among those 

faces bright — 
Like star amid the ebon clouds, aglow with softest light. 

And here at last, through titt'ring crowd, they come — 

the smiling pair — 
And stand before old Parson Bob, with white and bushy 

hair. 
Who starts, ere he commences, and gazed with puzzled 

look 
At first upon the dusky groom — then on his open book. 
103 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Hit 'pears ter me, mah bredren, dat dere 's hoodoo in 

dis bann 
Ob mat'imony — caze I 'low'd tie 'Lije ter Sally Ann — 
But, 'Great King in de mawnin'!' is mah eyes a-gittin' 

dim? 
Dis heah ain' Bruddah 'Lijah — dis sholy cyarn' be him. 

'Fur Gawd's sek ! now, ole Marstah, jes tell me what to 

do! 
Is ole Bob goin' crazy, an' gittin' blinded, too ? 
Dis heah ain' ole Elijah — onless he tuk a strain. 
An' gone back on de road o' life an' got him young 

again." 

With smile suppressed, yet beetling brow, the Master 

glanced aside 
At the sporty, bandy-legged groom, who claimed the 

saucy bride, 
'Where is Elijah, girl?" he said. "What have you done 

with him?" 
'Lawd ! Marstah, I done change mah mind — I gwine tek 

'Fiddlin' Jim.' " 



104 



AUNT 'LIZA'S VISIT NORTH 



105 



Aunt Eliza was a real person and, just as she states 
it, made a real visit to New York. 

But her experience, as related to the darkies on the 
plantation after returning home, should prove to the 
over-zealous philanthropist that the South knows her own 
children best. 



io6 



AUNT 'LIZA'S VISIT NORTH 

"My Gawd ! I 's home agin. T'ank de Lawd ! I 's back 
once mo' on de ole plantation. 

"I jes got so sick up Norf dat I tells Miss Louisa (you 
know she 's de Gin'l's wife dat sont fer me ter come an' 
see 'em) dat I jes boun' 'o come home ; so I sot out yis- 
tiddy, an' de Lawd knows dat steam boss couldn' go 
fas' enough fer dis chile. 

"I 'low'd de tears in dese ole eyes wuz all dried an' 
gone; but, chillun, when I seed de injine a-slowin' up ter 
stop, down dar by de pos' offus, I 'clars I fa'rly couldn' 
see an', Lawd! by dem mystificatioms, how near I come 
a-missin' ole 'Possum Pete.' 

"He were jes a-shufflin' out de do', wid de mail-bag as 
I was a-gittin' offen dem steam cyars, an' I putty nigh 
bus' mah ole pipes a-hol'rin' to him. 

" 'Name o' Gawd !' says I, 'old Pete, don' you go 
a-scootin' back to de plantation 'outen me, fer I 's been 
a-prayin' to de Great King all de way to git me dar some 
how or nuddah dis bressed night ; an', sho as de Marstah 
reign, ef here I don' see you an' de ole yaller mule jes at 
de 'p'inted time. De Lawd sut'ny do he'p de chosen,' 

"But how is you, chillun? An' what you-all been 
a-doin' sence I lef you? Is ole 'Lijah marr'd? Is Aunt 
Ca'line's rheumatiz done tuk her off yit? An' did Brud- 
dah Dan'l go 'way wid de army men ? 

"Well, all I can say is — dat any niggah's we'come ter 
107 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

go up Norf 'at wants to; but me, yaas, mah Lawd! dis 
chile done hed enoug-h. 

"Dey meks you feel so kinder out o' place dar. Wah, 
I fel' all de time lak a cabbage 'at some fool done plant 
in a flower-pot — he ! he ! — a-settin' me down in de par- 
lor, a-waitin' on me, an' a-callin' me 'Miss Lewis.' 

"I 's jes lonesome, I tells you, chillun, to heah some- 
body say 'Aunt 'Liza' once agin, an' I tell dat, too, to 
de Gin'l's fo'ks. 

"You ax how come I go up dar. Sis Betty ? 

"Well — you see, durin' ob de war, de Yankee Gin'l 
who was a-campin' nigh our plantatiom he come heah 
an' say he wan' a cook. 

"Well, o' co'se he gwine he'p hisse'f to de bes' ole 
Miss got, so he cont'aban' me, an' tek me to de camp, 
whar I show him — fer de fus' time in 'e life — what were 
fitten fer to eat; an' dat ar camp was de populouses 
place erlong de line, casin' fer ole 'Liza's beat biscuits. 

"Dey neber furgot 'em nuddah, fer arter de Wah I 
gits a lettah (you 'membahs dat lettah you brung me, 
don' you, Pete?) wid a big postum stamp on it, an' hit 
bringin' me de money from de Gin'l to come up Norf 
an' mek a visit to 'e wife. 

"He say he want me see de big New York, an' de fine 
people up dar dat set de niggahs free. 

"So, as ole Miss done daid, an' de gre't house was 
a-settin' dar, lonesome lak, a-mournin' fer her, I got ole 
Parson Bob to write de wo'd dat I 'd be dar at de 
'p'inted time. 

"So I gits mah black satin dress fix up — what bin in 
mah chis' dis twenty yeah (you 'membahs, Sis Tabby, 
io8 



AUNT 'LIZA'S VISIT NORTH 

dat dress ole Miss' aunt gimme dat time she down heah 
to Marse Bob's weddin'? Well, dat de dress) — an' de 
gray imbr'ider'd shawl 'at Miss Matilda she done let' 
me in de will, an' de pu'ple bonnet wid de green feddah 
'at Marstah git me in Petersbu'g time o' de barbecue. 

"Well, ole Pete an' de yaller mule dey tuk de HI' ha'r 
trunk down to de train (you knows de ha'r trunk Marse 
Charlie use ter hab?) ; an' de fus' t'ing I know'd I was 
jes a-ridin' lak de white fo'ks. 

"Now you ain' goin' b'lieb what I gwine tell you, but 
de Gin'al hisse'f he meet me at de landin'-place (caze, 
you knows, I 's too good a cook ter git los'), an' he 
start to put me in de kyarr'ge what he brung fer me. 

" 'De Lawd be praised, Gin'al !' I sez, 'git in fus' 
yo'se'f.' 

" 'Ah ! no, Mrs. Lewis,' sez he, 'we don' do dat way 
up heah.' So in he han' me, jes lak I 's ole Miss — an' 
me a-feelin' lak a fool all de time. 

" 'Now you sees de diff'ence, Miss Lewis,' sez he, 
' 'tween de Norf an' de Souf. Yo' ole Marstah wouldn' 
do dis, would he ?' 

" 'Great King in de mawnin' ! no, sah — ^lie ain' do no 
sech a perceedin' as dis; no mo' / wouldn' 'a done it, 
nuther ! 

" 'What ! me ride in a kyarrage wid ole Marstah ? 
Lawd ! no ; my ole Marstah too good fer dat — he qual'ty, 
he is ! Niggah ride afo' to dribe 'im, an' ahind ter open 
de do' an' de gate, but nary one dare put a foot inside 
dat coach, I tells you. Ole Unc' Eli would 'a' skin him 
to def; 'sides, niggah 's got too much 'spec' fer hisse'f 
to do dat — he wouldn' hab a Marstah he could ride wid !' 
109 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"He neber say no mo' to me, chillun, 'til he git to de 
house, an' den, I tells you, he han' me outen dat kyarrage 
moughty quiet lak. Den he ring de bell, an' a sassy 
yaller, free-lookin' niggah open de do'. He look kind o' 
temptious lak at me, but I know'd he ain' neber bin use 
ter nuthin', so I kind o' 'scuse him, in mah mind. (Co'se 
he ain' neber hed no young Marstahs an' Missuses lak 
we 's had, ter show 'im mannahs, so I didn' pay no 'ten- 
tion 't all ter him.) 

"Well, chillun, dere ain' no use in my goin' no furdah, 
'cep'in' ter say dat Miss Gin'al 's so glad ter see me dat 
she wen' an' done gimme her room (dey was all lil' bits 
o' cut-up places no biggah dan ole Missus' big closeks), 
caze she say 'I too stout' — dat what she call it — 'ter sleep 
on de parlor couch,' an' she 'ould tek it herse'f. 

" 'Lawd ! Miss Gin'al,' I sez, 'let dis ole fat niggah 
sleep on de flo' ; I 's done it many a time. Why, when 
ole Miss was sick, you couldn' dribe me 'way f'om dat 
dar pallet what I med down by her baid — dat was my 
'bidin' place.' 

" 'Oh ! no. Miss Lewis,' she sez, 'you '11 find you 's 
wid a diff'ent people now.' 

" 'Yaas, name o' Gawd !' I sez, 'I finds I is.' 

"But afo' I goes to baid I mus' tell you-all one mo' 
t'ing — dey wan' me eat at de table wid em! But ole 
'Liza draw de line dar, an' when Miss Gin'al say: 'I 
knows de white fo'ks at de plantatiom neber ax you eat 
wid dem, did dey?' I bu'sts out a-takin' up fer mah 
fam'ly. 'No, marm ; o' co'se not 1 Why, mah ole Miss 's 
one o' dem Cy-artahs what come f'om Shirley on de 
no 



AUNT 'LIZA'S VISIT NORTH 

Jeems ! Dey hed niggahs by de hund'eds — de bes' qual'ty 
niggahs in ole Virginny ! Dey eat wid niggahs ? Lawd ! 
Miss Gin'al, how you does 'suit me !' 

"Den one day dey tuk me down de bigges' street in 
de worl', she say, an' show'd me all de sto's — or shops 
she call 'em. Eb'rybody look at me an' her, an' I fel' 
lak sayin': *Dis ain' my young Mistis, an' please 'scuse 
her. She mean all right, but she don' know no bettah 
dan to go 'long de street — lak a ekal — wid a ole niggah.' 
She don' know dat de white pigeon an' de crow am 
diff'ent birds, an' ain' got no business a-keepin' comp'ny 
togedder, 

"But I tells you, Sis Nancy, dey don' know nuthin' 't 
all up dar 'bout 'stocracy. Dey says eb'ry man 's alike, 
but dat 's a lie, fer I knows I neber look lak some o' 
de onsightly t'ings what I seen a-movin' 'roun'. 

"But it sut'inly was true in one p'int, caze I seed de 
Marstahs a-settin' up in front, a-dribin' de coachmans — 
bof black an' white — while dey — now heah me, Lawd ! — 
was a-settin' behin', jes as imperint, in reel sto' clo'es, 
wid dey ban's fol', lak a image. Umph, umph ! dat 's de 
time dey do looks erlike. Dis ole 'Liza Jane couldn' 
hardly tell 'em 'part. 

"An' I neber seed nobody dar what could tech our 
Marse Rob, nor was white an' putty lak Miss Nancy. But 
I 'spec' de qual'ty was outen o' town, caze I didn' see 
none ob 'em. 

"De womens look lak de pictur' ladies in de books; 
but dey was kinder rearin' up dey haids, lak ole Jane's 
Desdemony use ter do when she git on dem Sunday 
clo'es o' her'n. You 'membahs dat^ Sis Dinah? 
Ill 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"An', Great King! you oughter seed de niggahs 
a-struttin' 'roun' in dey missus' netv clo'es. (I knows 
nobody ain' neber wore dem clo'es, caze dere warn't de 
tech o' Time on 'em.) 

"But, I tells you, de kinks in my ha'r fa'rly stud out 
straight when dey was all a-axin' me 'bouten de ole plan- 
tation. De Gin'al come right out one time an' ax me 
did ole Marstah eber whup any ob his color'd fo'ks. 

" 'No, sah,' I sez, 'Marstah he hire de Norden ober- 
seer fer to do dat dutty wuk fer him ; an' mighty HI' ob 
hit done on our plantation, I tells you. Dey warn't but 
one niggah been whup dar in sebenteen yeahs, an' dat 
was ole 'Lijah an' he were whupped fer beatin' his wife. 
No, sah ! Marstah ain' gwine sile his ban's. He 's de 
reel qual'ty, born down Souf, right on de plantation. 
Why, he ain' neber eben bin up Norf ! He 's reel 'stoc- 
racy, he is. His muddah was a Randolph, an' her mud- 
dah was a Lewis ! Dis fam'ly o' our'n neber 'low'd no 
sech perceedin's. Dey was good to dey color'd fo'ks, 
from de leas' to de greates' an' f 'om de fus' to de las',' 

"An' when I was a-leavin', de Gin'al's wife she say 
'Good-bye, 'Liza' — you see, I teach'd her som'n' — 'now 
ain' you hed a good time — ain' we treat you good ?' 

" 'Lawd ! yaas, 'm,' I sez, 'mighty good ; but den I 
feels all 'e time lak you hed sot de fryin'-pan on to de 
sideboa'd — an' I ain' bin use ter no sich.' 

"Well, den she call dat yaller boy, right quick, an' he 
come all rigg'd up in 'e bil'd shut, an' brass buttons lak 
de Gin'al, an' she tol' 'im see me to de train. He done 
it an', t'ank de Lawd! my visitatiom war ober; caze I 

112 



AUNT 'LIZA'S VISIT NORTH 

done hed 'nuf o' dem furriners up Norf an' de free 
issue. 

"Afo' I lef, Miss Gin'al try to 'suade me ter stay an' 
cook fer her (den I see froo all dat perliteness I bin 
a-gittin'), but I tell her: *No, I warn't a-lookin' fer no 
place ter cook, dese days.' 

"An' den de Gin'al ax me ef he warn't good ter me in 
de camp. 'Yaas, sah,' I sez, 'but dat ain' lak cookin' in 
de kitchen. I wouldn' enj'y mah cookin' dese days; it 's 
too diff'ent f'om de ole times.' 

"He ax me how dat was^ an' I tells him 'at down 
home, whar I was de fus' cook, when Miss hed comp'ny 
all she hed to do was to say : * 'Liza, I wants dinner ter- 
morrow fer thirteen, instid o' five' (dar warn't neber no 
onlucky numbahs down dar), an' I 'd say: 'Yaas, Missus, 
all you 's got ter do is jes ter leab out de ingregiums.' 
An', my Lawd! what a dinnah ole 'Liza 'd git! My 
table look lak it 'd fa'rly cry out wid whaten was on it: 
turkey, ham, croquettes, cel'ry, sour pickles, an' dem 
sweet pickles what come f'om Brandon, ok'a, aig-plant, 
salsify, commartoses, sweet 'taters, an' de Lawd knows 
what! 

"An' arter Pomp an' Cassah an' Jonas tek in de dishes 
I use ter run in f'om de kitchen an' tek a peep at dat 
table afo' de white fo'ks git dar. An', I tells you, I was 
de proudes' niggah in ole Virginny when I heahs de sil- 
vah a-rattlin', an' de dishes a-clashin', an' de glasses 
a-techin', an' de ladies an' de beaux a-laughin', an' ter 
know dat it was ole 'Lisa's wuk what set de whole t'ing 
off, an' kep' it a-goin'. 'No, sah, Marse Gin'al,' I sez, 'I 
'clars I couldn' cook up Norf dese days, fer de way dey 
113 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

runs t'ings now jes natchelly hu'ts mah feelin's. Caze, 
accordin' to de raisin' what ole Miss gimme, I considahs 
dat dere 's entirely too — much — shufflin' — ob — de — 
dishes — fer — de — littleness — ob — de — vittles.' " 



114 



DE "YANKEE" BUCKEYE 



115 



"Bruddah Dan'I, is dey anywhar in de Scriptuhs dat 
dey 's mentiom med ob de color'd pusson ?" 

"Why, ob co'se, Bruddah Johnsing — co'se dey is. Ain' 
you 'membah whar hit say Nigger Demus come to de 
Lawd by night? Dar is special mentiom med ob his 
'plexiom." 



ii6 



DE "YANKEE" BUCKEYE 

"Good-mornin', Bruddah Anderson, I 's glad ter see you, 

sho; 
Jes tek de rockin'-cheer, an' set right dar aside de do'. 
I 's awful bad wid pains ter-day — I tells you what it is — 
Dese Yankee buckeyes ain' no good ter cuah de rheu- 

matiz. 

"Down home, when tech o' mis'ry come — I 'membahs 

moughty well — 
A buckeye f om de pastur'-lot wuk lak er cunjer spell ; 
But yarbs up Norf 's plum diff'ent kind — leas'wise so 

Selim say — 
'Pears lak dey ain' know how ter tek de mis'ry erway. 

"Mah ole man, he done jes step out ter git a leetle tea, 
An' we '11 be proud ter have you tek a cup wid him an' 

me; 
(Azcuse dis smokin' chimbly-flue. I 's done mah lebel 

bes', 
But de Debil sho gits in 'im when de wind is f om de 

wes')." 

"I 's called in, Sistah Caryline, ter 'spoun' wid you ter- 
day, 
Kaze I fear you is backslidin' f 'om de straight an' narrer 
way; 

117 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

Ole Bruddah Hambone 's eh'ry night a-'zortin' us ter 

grace, 
An' you aiti' holdin' up his han's by showin' ob yo' 

face. 

" Tears lak you 'lows to tu'n yo' back on him de Lawd 

did call — 
Dat 'lected man, choose jes de same ez 'Phesiums, Job 

an' Paul. 
So at de meetin' dar las' night, ob moanin', pray'r an 

praise, 
Dey 'low'd dey 'd drap all f'om de book dat don' men' 

up deir ways. 

"Dey 's down on Sis Tabithy Jones fer dancin' wid de 

men 
An' a-gibin' ob a shindig to de Zion's 'uppah ten' ; 
Dey 'lows to rein up Deacom Brown fer goin' to dat 

show. 
An' f'om de roll dey gwine 'o drap Sis Lily White once 

mo'. 

"Dey 'clars she is er infirfw/, kaze dey done heah her say 
She don' belieb de whale he swallah Jonah, anyway ; 
An' so dey 's gwine 'o clean 'em out — de sinnahs got ter 

go— 
Bekaze our chu'ch's 'membah book mus' be ez 'white ez 

snow.' 

"An' so dis mawnin' heah I is, ter 'zort wid you an' pray, 
An' wrastle wid de Lawd, dat you '11 limp back to Zion's 
way, 

ii8 



DE "YANKEE" BUCKEYE 

An* 'seech Him gib you grace to shed de debilmini ob 

sin, 
Dat, lak ole Nicodemus, chile, you mought be 'born 

agin.' " 

Old CaroHne a-kimbo set her arms with easy grace, 
And fixed a pair of flashing eyes upon the parson's face. 
(That Yankee buckeye 'd done its work as well — 'twas 

plain to see — 
As though it came from "pastur'-lot," 'way down in 

Tennessee) ; 

For up she sprang. "I ain' gwine do no bettah dan I is, 
Caze jes to tie me down, de Lawd He sont dis rheu- 

matiz ; 
So heah I sets obejient — but kind o' rastless, too — 
A-mindin' mah own business — lak some uddahs bettah 

do. 

"Fer dat brack man I got no use, a-comin' in de night 
Jes lak he 'shamed ter ax de Lawd dat questiom in de 

light. 
Ole Missus tol' me many time de Debil is ter pay 
When fo'kses goes an' does by night what dey dar n't 

do by day. 

"When Nigger Demus heerd dem wo'ds: 'Ye mus' be 
born ergin,' 
Dat man ain' tekin' in his mind hit meanin' born f'om 

sin. 
He 's countin' on de color, an' he bustin' wid derlight, 
Caze he 'low, ef he git horned ergin, he mought git 
bornded — white." 

119 



DE FAMBLY TREE 



121 



The habit of boasting was a great failing amongst the 
negroes of the old South. 

Plantations vied with each other in wonderful tales 
concerning their respective owners and families; which 
tales, through ignorance, were unconsciously so magni- 
fied that, to a person of reasonable intelligence, they were 
most absurd. 

"Uncle Jeff," having been a house-servant in palmy 
days, when the establishment was maintained in lordly 
style, had heard so much of the "fus' famblies" that his 
old woolly pate was permeated with the idea that good 
blood — like cleanliness — was next to godliness. 

With such belief he fully justifies himself in earnestly 
chiding "Marse Rob" for what he terms "deesrespec' 
todes de Fambly Tree." 



122 



DE FAMBLY TREE 

"I TELLS you what it is, Marse Rob, you is a plum 
deesgra.ce to de 'fambly tree !' — an' dat 's what you is. 

"You ain' keer nuthin' 't all 'bouten dat tree? 

"Well now, chile, I tells you it 's high time you was 
a-keerin', kaze dat tree is de mos' 'portantes' t'ing in 
we 's fambly dis day. Ole Mastah set a lot o' sto' by 
hit, kaze dey is fo'ks on dar who sarbed de King, time 
Marse Cromwell hed his haid cutten off. Yaas, I 's offen 
hearn tell o' dat. 

"Why, Marse Rob, mah dad say dat ole Marse's gran'- 
pa — Marse Alec — he was — right — dar — on — de — spot — 
hisse'f — a-seein' — it. An' he tol' de house niggahs on de 
plantation! all 'bouten it, an' dey 's brought down de 
story, kaze dey 'low we chillun oughter be grafted wid 
de p'inted facts. 

"An' heah you say — yo' pa's own chile — dat you don' 
keer — nuthin' — 't all — 'bouten — dis — tree. I 's 'shamed 
o' you — I sholy is. 

"Now what is you a-laughin' at, Marse Rob? You 
sutt'inly is lef yo' mannahs ahind you, up dar to dat 
'Varsity school whar you done been, kaze you neber use 
ter laugh lak dat at ole Jeff afo' you mix yo'se'f up wid 
dem furrinahs when de po' ole niggah was 'temptin' to 
'suade you to trod in de feetprints ob yo' pa. 

"You say Cromwell warn't de man what had his haid 
cutten off? 

123 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Now look heah, Marse Rob, you is jes 'vadin' de 
p'int; ier, wheddah it wuz Marse Cromwell, or de King 
afo' 01 ahind 'im mek no diff'cnce 't all to dis story, 
kaze ob co'se de tale may hab got some leetle twisted 
a-comin' down de line. An', I tells you, de gre't fo'ks 
on dat squar' o' paper dar, dey is 'shamed o' you, too, 
an' dey 'd be a-gittin' down ofifen dat tree in a hurry — 
ef dey could — you 'haves so ongodly an' onrighteous lak, 
a-goin' dat erway agin' yo' fambly. 

"Don' cher know dey-all, a-roos'in' dar in dem 
branches, wuz de high-mos' qual'ty? An' dat when dey 
come ober heah to ole Virginny dey jes hed deir ships 
a-loaded down wid deir silvah, an' deir gol', an' deir fine 
furmicher? An', honey, dem fo'ks done set de Gov'mint 
up on hit's laigs when it wuz a lettle teensy-weensy t'ing, 
too weak fer to stan' aloney; an', afo' de King, Marse 
Rob, dey 'ouldn' a-been no Niter Stets, ef hit had'n 
a-been fer dis fambly. (Dat what ole Marse tol' me one 
day — or som'n' lak dat — when we wuz a-ridin' inter town, 
me on ole Bess, an' him on de gray mar'.) 

" 'Why,' he sez, 'ole Virginny she jes been a-gibbin' 
de country presidints, an' jedges, an' speakahs' — yaas, 
honey, she gib 'em jes ez easy ez de oak-tree drap de 
acorns. An' moughty nigh all dem 's on dis heah tree 
what we 's 'sputin' 'bout. 

"An' den, you see, chile, ez we 's fambly been 'bleeged 
to tek a humblin' seat sence de wah, it am heap mo' 
'portanter dat we all sticks by hit now, an' don' cas' no 
'spicioms on hit ; kaze, de Lawd knows ! we is hed trouble 
enuf. 

"You says dem ole daid-an'-gone codgers didn' know 
124 



DE FAMBLY TREE 

eb'ryt'ing? Dat dey brung de trouble on deyselves, an' 
dat de Yankees was all right ? 

"Lawd! Marse Rob, what 's a-gittin' you? You sholy 
is I'arn'd a lot o' 'strep'rous idees up dar to dat 'Varsity 
college whar you been. Is dey teach you sech, chile? 
Well, honey, dem gemmens I 'spec' kin Tarn you eddica- 
tiom an' sech lak, but dey don' know nuthin' 't all 'bouten 
us — ob co'se dey don' — kaze dey hain' neber libed down 
heah — an' quinsecontly dey don' perzactly onderstan' de 
way we 's been a-mixin' de colors. 

"An' it sutt'inly do hu't my heart to heah you a-goin' 
on so deesrespectum 'bouten de 'fambly tree.' 

" 'Scuse me, honey ; 'scuse me, Marse Rob — ole Jeff 
don' lak to say hit — but you sholy cyarn' be yo'se'f dis 
ebenin', is you? Caze I 'low'd you look moughty on- 
stiddy when I seed you a-ridin' up de lawn jes afo' sun- 
down f'om Fairfax Hall. Lawd, Lawd! he'p— my — 
soul! de debil sutt'inly — am — in — dat — mint-patch! 

"Dis heah tree what we 's got undah 'scussiom is been 
a-bearin' de fines' fruit in ole Albemarle fer hund'eds o' 
yeahs, an' you ain' gwine 'o be de fus' rotten apple dar, 
is you, Marse Rob? 

"You see, honey, when ole Marstah die, he leab de rais- 
in' ob you to ole Miss — so she feel moughty 'sponsibul 
lak. An' las' Sunday, when de light all went outen de 
sky, at de same time de life was a-goin' outen yo' Ma, 
she call me to de baid-side — tuk me by de han', an' say : 
'Jeff, when I 's gone, an' my boy comes home, look arter 
him — look arter yo' Marse Rob, an' beg him to leab de 
drink alone.' Dem was her las' wo'ds, chile— sh© as de 
125 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

King reigns — an' I knows dey 's as good to you as jinin' 
de plaige. 

"An' now, Marse Rob, one uddah reason why I don' 
wan' you deesgrace dat tree is kaze I was a-consid'rin 
de 'spectability ob bein' on hit mahse'f ; so I was gwine 
ax you tek de pen an' wrote down dar — jes by de roots 
— de name o' ole black Jeff. You 'd bettah wrote it in 
partic'lar, Marse Rob : 'Jefferson Madison Jones, de faif- 
ful sarvant ob ole Marse.' I wants you do hit now, afo' 
I passes, lak ole Miss, froo de valley ob de shadder — 
kaze I 's a-gittin' eriong in dis vale ob yeahs. I is sarbed 
yo' pa an' ma mo' 'an seb'nty yeah, an' I wants hab mah 
name on dat papah, 'longside o' deir'n. An' you need'n 
be afear'd, Marse Rob, to write mah name down dar, 
kaze, dough I ain' nuffin' but a 'umblin' sarvant, ole Jeff 
hain' neber — yit — brung — no — deesgrace — on — de — fam- 
bly. 

"What you lookin' at me so cur'ous lak dat fer, Marse 
Rob ? You ax me how 't is 'bouten mahse'f not a-bring- 
in' 'no deesgrace on de fambly'? An' huccome I not 
be a-libin' now wid Roxann, nor Susannah, nor Penelope, 
nor Sal, nor none o' dem 'spousals what I done made ? 

"Well now, in co'se, Marse Rob, you is techin' on a 
ser'ous p'int, an' one which ain' got nuffin' 't all to do 
wid dese 'greemints. Howsomever, I 'lows I is been 
a-swingin' mahse'f ruddah free an' easy down de line o' 
mattermony; but den you knows dat dey alius wuz a 
considerbul 'safety in numbahs,' so — he ! he ! — dat 's de 
way I kind o' tuk fer to protec' mahse'f. An' asides, 
de Angel o' Glory couldn' hab lib wid none o' dem dar 
niggah 'omen what done pester me wid dey 'tentioms; 
126 



DE FAMBLY TREE 

no mo' could ole Jeff, who don' sot hisse'f up fer no 
sanctified membah. An', Lawd! Marse Rob, you 's got 
eddicatiom enough to 'vince yo'se'f dat in some ve'y in- 
considerate pertic'Iars niggahs don' kyount. Dis heah 
'ma'yin' an' gibbin' in ma'iage' 'peared to me lak hit was 
one o' dem pertic'Iars, but de las' one — dat sassy jade, 
Miss Adeline Tuckah — didn' you heah 'bout her, Marse 
Rob? She 'low dat she gwine do de white fo'ks' ac', an' 
she gwine hab a preachah, an' er book, to tie de knot. 
(I 'spec' she think ole Jeff slip out too easy.) Well now, 
I sho is afeared you '11 argify dat I is fell f'om grace 
when I 'splains you de outcome o' dat ma'iage; but she 
sont Unc' Eli's Ned fer de ole blin' parson, down dar at 
Ribber J'int, to come an' do de business right. 

"I was kinder skeered when de preachah he come, an' 
dat gal, all fussed up in her bes' clo'es, 'gin a-sidlin' up 
ter me, wid a lot o' niggahs dar ter witness de perceed- 
in's, she say. (Umph, umph ! Glory be to Moses! ole 
Jeff feel he sho is gone dat time.) Well, de parson was 
a-perceedin', an' I felt mah knee-j'ints a-gibbin' way, an' 
mahse'f a-gittin' whitah an' whitah wid eb'ry bref I 
draws, an' a-wishin' to de Lawd I was outen dat box — 
when ef dat blame ole niggah ain' ax me ef I tek her fer 
'bettah or fer wuss'? 

" 'No, sah' I sez, 'parson, not yit, caze I 's done hed 
ontirely too much 'speunce in dis line to be ketched in 
dat trap; so jes lemme tek her fus', an' gib 'er a trial, an' 
den I kin let you know mo' sartain 'bouten dat "bettah 
an' wuss" business; kaze, afo' Gawd! ole Jeff ain' 
a-gwine run — nary — nuddah — resk — ^by — meki 
blin' — trade — wid no niggah 'oman.' " 
127 



DB LAS' "WILL AN' TESTIM INT' 



129 



For the benefit of those who are unacquainted with the 
characteristics of the old-time Southern negro I prefix 
these verses with a word of explanation. 

They were a most unaccountable people, for their own 
children seeming to possess little or no affection, while 
they expended a wealth of love and tenderness upon the 
children of their masters. 

In the matter of dying, some of them seemed to enjoy 
as many lives as a cat — one old woman being known to 
have sent for her mistress nine times in as many years 
to say the last good-bye. 

The incident of the bosom-pin is a true one, also the 
willing of the cabin to Marse John. 



130 







13 ca 
§ I 



W) 



I ^ 

b 6 

"n :=: 

i 'I 



DE LAS' "WILL AN' TESTIMINT" 

"Come in, Marse John, an' please, sah, set right heah 

aside de baid — 
Down dar whar I kin see you, 'out de raisin' ob mah 

haid — 
Caze I wants you write de testimiw^ I 's gwine 'o gib 

you now, 
Afo' I feels de dew o' Def a-sottlin' on mah brow. 

"You fotch de pen, did you, Marse John, de papah an' 

de ink? 
Well, Heb'nly Marstah ! gib me grace to cl'ar mah haid 

an' t'ink; 
Caze afo' I goes I wants you bof — you an' Miss Nancy, 

too — 
To heah dese partin', dyin' wo'ds I 's boun' to tol' to 

you. 

"Yaas, praise de Lawd! I '11 mek mah will while I is 
got de bref. 
Fur I ain' lak de Squire who 'clar'd a will wuz courtin' 

Def— 
An' so he feer'd to drap de line, to leab his leabin's 

right, 
An' when de Debil tote 'im off dere wuz dat scan'lous 
fight. 

131 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

"Dis un want dis, dat un want dat, ob what de po' man 

lef; 
Tears lak dey all wuz stan'in' 'roun' afo' he done los' 

his bref. 
An' what de eenin' ob dat fuss? — when he guv up de 

ghos' — 
De bery zvuss one in de lot, Marse John, he got de 

mos'. 

"I 's offen writ mah will afo', when Def he 'pear to me, 
But dis 's mah las'es' testimint de worl' will eber see ; 
Caze dis time I is sholy gone. I seed it in de night, 
When a visium come an' tech me in a shinin' robe o' 
white. 

"I ain' got much to leab behin', de Lawd in Heben knows. 
Mah specs, dese yaller beads I w'ars, mah chist, mah 

Sunday clo'es, 
Mah blue kid glubs, de Injy shawl Miss Nancy done 

gib me. 
An' dis littr pictur', by de baid, ob Marstah Gin'al Lee. 

"Dis is de one, you know, Marse Phil he gib to me dat 

day 
Afo' he tuk 'is gran'pa's s'ord an' rode so fas' away ; 
Lawd ! I kin see mah chile right now, an' heah him say 

good-bye, 
An' on mah cheek kin feel de teah a-drappin' f'om his 

eye. 

"De w'arin' t'ings, you kin write down, I '11 leab to ole 
Torm's Bess, 
Caze she is alius treated me heap bettah dan de res' ; 
132 



DE LAS' "WILL AN' TESTIMINT" 

She 's tended to de gyardin-patch, an' med mah mullin 

tea, 
When nary nuddah ob dem gals 'ould do a t'ing fur me. 

"Mah pictur' heah ob Gin'al Lee I ain' gwine gib away, 
Caze I wants hit risin' wid me on de Rassurrakshum 

Day; 
So, arter I is laid out in mah ole black satin dress, 
Jes put hit lak a bosom-pin, right heah upon mah breas'. 

"An* now, Marse John, I 's comin' to de p'int I wants to 

mek — 
An' dat is 'at mah cabin you won' let no niggah tek ; 
I gibs it back to you, Marse John, lak you gib it to me 
Dat Chris'mus Day you tol' us dat me an' Dan wuz 

free. 

"I couldn' res' good in mah grabe — I 'clar's afo' de 

Lawd ! — 
Ef I know'd dat big-mouf Venus, or dat Angelina 

Maud, 
Wuz gwine 'o lib whar / is libed, or sot whar / is sot. 
An' use fur dey own glorymint de t'ings what I is got. 

"You say dey is mah chillun, an' dey 's got de lawful 

right? 
Look heah, Marse John ! I b'liebs I is some bettah now 

to-night. 
Dis miz'ry — in — de — back 's nigh gone — so put dat pen 

away, 
An' we' 11 mek out dis testimw^ agin some uddah day." 



133 



MAMMY SUKEY'S BURYIN' 



135 



Almost every Southerner can recall a "Mammy Su- 
key," some faithful old negro whose affection for her 
master's family was only offset by their love and devo- 
tion to her. 

The old mammy of whom these verses tell was a real 
character, and her "buryin' " a true incident. 

She came from Virginia to Missouri in 1818 with a 
grandson of Governor Page and lived an honored mem- 
ber of his family for more than sixty years. 

Over the household she exercised a gentle authority, 
and her cabin was the "city of refuge" for "de chillun" 
when threatened with punishment for repeated offence; 
yet, woe betide the little woolly head who fell beneath 
the ban of her displeasure. 

She passed away in 1880 — and was laid to rest in the 
cemetery at Lexington, "jus' at Marse Robert's feet." , 



136 



MAMMY SUKEY'S BURYIN' 

I STAND beside a time-worn grave, with headstone old and 
brown, 

O'er which the clinging ivy-leaves most tenderly have 
grown. 

I part them with a careless hand, to see the name more 
clear, 

And "Sukey, faithful nurse and friend," I read deci- 
phered here. 

The grave is in the Master's plot, just at the Master's 

feet. 
And villagers oft love to tell, in accents touching sweet. 
Her last request: "Lawd! chillun, ole Mammy could die 

glad, 
Ef she know'd she 'd hev a 'buryin' ' jes lak ole Mastah 

had. 

"I want you tuck me in de groun', jes at Marse Robert's 
feet, 

Dat when de King o' Glory come, His bressed Sain's ter 
greet, 

Me an' ole Marse, a-Iyin dar, togedder we shall rise. 

An' flop our wings — white wings, my Lawd ! — to'ds man- 
sions in de skies." 



DE NAMIN' OB DE TWINS 

And then, with sigh, toward the Hght she 'd turned her 
wrinkled face, 

Whilst mellow beams from evening sun lit up the hal- 
lowed place; 

For Christian soul, its warfare o'er, had entered into 
rest — 

And Mammy's hands they folded then upon her quiet 
breast. 

And so, when from that cabin home the spark of life had 

fled. 
The "chillun" decked, with garden flowers, her narrow 

casket bed; 
And then the Master's stalwart sons, down through the 

wood and grove. 
Bore the black Mammy who had shared their childish 

joy and love. 

And here the same old village priest, in spotless robe, had 

read. 
With solemn tone and moistened eye, the "Burial of the 

Dead." 
While to the darkies' plaintive dirge, with wailings wild 

and long, 
The whip-poor-will and mocking-bird had lent their 

mournful song. 

And so they laid her tenderly where she had wished to 
be— 

At foot of "ole Marse Robert's" grave, beneath the wil- 
low tree. 

138 



MAMMY SUKEY'S BURYIN' 

And then this modest stone was raised — just like the 

Master's, too — 
To mark another noble life to God and man most true. 

And now the golden sun at morn, with warm rejoicing 

light, 
And soft, pale moon, with milder beams, throughout the 

silent night, 
Enfold the little quiet mound where "Mammy" lies 

asleep, 
While tender flowers and ivy-leaves their loving vigil 

keep. 

Oh, woman! Shafts around thee mark the resting-place 

of men 
Who may have won that bauble "Fame" by sword, or 

voice, or pen ; 
But never o'er their costly biers flowed children's tears 

more sad • 

Than those shed at that "buryin' jes lak ole Mastah had." 



THE END 



139 



IVIAY X 1^08 



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